The Journey Home
by Terp4Life
Summary: He'd found her in the mountains of Tibet, but there was still a long way left to go. Jane and Kurt, of course.
1. The Ends of the Earth

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

There were _so many questions._ In fact, he felt that he had almost nothing _but_ questions. The biggest one, obviously, was why she had left. But, as it had been from the beginning with them, it seemed that questions only led to more questions. As did answers. Indeed, _everything_ seemed to lead to more questions. There was only one thing that he knew for sure, and that was that he loved her, that he _needed_ her.

And now, after so much time he had found her. That answered one basic question – where she had gone. But that was the _only_ thing he felt had been sufficiently answered since Jane had gone missing months ago. There had been only a cryptic note, her wedding band sitting beside the neatly folded sheet of paper. He'd been shocked by the fact that she'd left – for many different reasons, but not least because she had to have known what it would doto him to find her gone.

So yes, now he'd found her, and together they'd answered the question of how to open the metal box – they had needed both of their fingerprints. They'd also successfully determined what was _in_ the box – a small metal "key" with the same picture of a bird that was on her neck, which would appear only under very specific conditions – when it was held by not just one, but both of them. What that key had unlocked, however, was the most mind blowing thing of all. To say that neither of them were prepared for what came next was an understatement.

So there they stood, Jane's body giving off a luminescent purple glow in the low light of the tent that had been hers since she'd been taken in by the Tibetan monks months ago. Kurt stared at her, unable to believe his eyes, as she looked back at him, equally shocked. There was something else in her eyes just then – fear.

 _Did I do_ _ **this**_ _to myself as well? And if so,_ _ **how**_ _?_ she thought frantically.

Kurt was afraid, too. It didn't make sense. This couldn't be natural… what was inside her, or under her skin, that was causing this? What did it mean? Was she in danger? He couldn't let anything happen to her… not _again._ Not after everything else that they'd already been through. Not after he'd just finally found her again.

The purple glow emanating from under Jane's skin showed no sign of dimming as the two of them stood there, wide-eyed, so Kurt slowly pulled the key away from her neck. As much as there would be a time when it would be necessary to study each and every one of those new images, this was _not_ that time. Really, at that moment, as shocked as he was by what had just happened, he was even more consumed with something far less complicated.

 _After all this time, he had found his wife._

When he looked at the big picture, it hadn't been that long. But a few months without her – he didn't even know how many off the top of his head, his mind was so scattered just then, only that it had felt like _an eternity_ – had been endless, like a new kind of hell that he'd awoken to every day, only to remember that in this version of his existence, for some reason there was no Jane. Each day had felt never ending, the weight of it constantly growing, even when he felt that it couldn't possibly be worse than the previous day, the previous _moment_. In short, it had been an existence he was not willing to accept. No, he had refused to believe that she had been gone for good, even when they'd found not a single lead to go on for what had _felt like_ years. It hadn't been years, of course, and eventually they'd found the break that they'd needed. And now, here he was.

Stepping back from her, he replaced the key in the box, then slowly replaced the box inside his backpack. There was almost nothing else inside his bag, despite how long and arduous his journey had been. He'd left the few other belongings that he'd brought with him with the first monk he'd encountered, taking him up on his offer to hold his things for him. Kurt had, however, insisted that he needed his backpack with him.

He took his time replacing the key in the box, and the box in his bag, because standing here in this tent with Jane, they both felt overwhelmed. He'd spent so long considering what it would be like if he never found her – like Taylor all over again, only so much _worse_ , because as much as he'd loved Taylor, he loved Jane _so much more_ – and then what it would be like when he _did_ find her. He'd imagined this reunion in his head so many times, that now that he was actually here, he wasn't really sure what to do. They'd held each other tightly when he'd first walked in, and now… now what? Their emotions were boiling over, to the point that they just stood and looked at each other.

The purple glow from under Jane's skin had faded, and now she looked more like herself again. Standing there several feet away from him, he couldn't help but think that in some ways she resembled the Jane that he had first met so long ago, in that FBI interrogation room. Not physically, of course. Her hair was longer and her clothes were different…

 _What is it about her just now that reminds me of that first day?_ he wondered.

And then it hit him. Among the many conflicting emotions that she wore on her face, the one that shone through most clearly was the one that was giving him deja vu. _She looks afraid. Terrified_ , even _. Even in the most harrowing of situations, Jane rarely looks frightened._

Suddenly he wondered why he was still standing so far away from her. Shouldn't he be at her side? At the same time, he felt his feet firmly planted on the ground. He wanted nothing more than to move closer to her, to try to fix whatever it was that she looked so afraid of – after all, wasn't he the one who'd always been able to do just that? More than anyone else, he'd been able to soothe her… so why hadn't she given him the chance this time? They were so much more to each other than they'd ever been before. She was his _wife,_ for God's sake! So… _why?_

Still, despite the urge to rush forward, he remained standing where he was, looking at her desperately but somehow unable to move.

Instead of calming down, Jane seemed to be slowly losing her composure before his eyes. _Tell me what to do_ , he wanted to beg, but he was currently unable to utter a sound.

He watched helplessly as her head fell to her chest, and she turned away, toward the far "wall" of the tent. A shiver of fear ran through him, and he suddenly regained his ability to move. No, he wouldn't stand by and do nothing. He wouldn't watch her suffer like this, not if there was anything he could do to stop it.

In only a few steps he was standing behind her, his hands coming to rest gently on her shoulders. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, as he had when he'd first arrived. That time, he'd needed to reassure himself that she was real. This time, however, he hesitated. There was _so much_ between them, but for the first time he didn't know what to do.

"Jane," he whispered, staring desperately at her back and willing her to turn around. "Talk to me."

He felt her shoulders heave beneath his hands, as her whole body shuddered, and if not for the fact that he was holding onto her, she may have fallen to the ground then and there.

 _I don't deserve another chance,_ she thought forlornly. _I do not deserve this man. And he does not deserve to have to go through this, because of me._

She just shook her head, unable to form words. The volume was so loud in her head, and she wanted nothing more than to turn it off. To make it _stop_. Involving him in this would be cruel. It would put him in danger.

 _He's already involved,_ the voice in her head reminded her kindly. _He has been from the first day. He could have bailed out a long time ago, and he has always done the opposite. Give him credit for that. What's cruel is shutting him out. He's obviously not going to walk away. If you haven't noticed, he literally followed you to the ends of the Earth. I get the feeling that he would sooner cut off his own arm than give up on you, so you may as well stop torturing the poor man and let him in. The way you used to._

 _I can't_ , she insisted in her head, feeling herself beginning to shake as the emotions overpowered her. _It's too dangerous. If anything happened to him…_

 _You're too late for that,_ the voice said soothingly. _A lot of things have happened to him. Terrible things. Horrible. Things that no one should reasonably be expected to go through and come out the other side unscathed. And yet here he is._

 _Those things happened because of me, though. I can't let it get worse…_ She simply couldn't understand why that damn voice in her head couldn't understand this.

 _A lot of bad things happened. Some of them because of Shepherd, some because of_ _ **Remi**_ _,_ the voice corrected her _._

 _I did some of those bad things, too,_ she thought. _I can't blame it all on them. I'm nowhere near innocent._

 _ **No one**_ _is perfect,_ the voice said, still frustratingly calm.

 _This isn't about me not being perfect._ _This is about me being a monster. I can't keep blaming Remi for things, as if she's someone else. We're the same person now,_ she thought sadly, choking back a sob. _I spent all that time wanting to remember, only to find out that I never should have wanted that at all. Why couldn't I have been happy just the way I was?_

 _Because it's not in your nature,_ came the answer from inside her head. _You need the truth, even when it's ugly._

 _Well the truth is certainly ugly,_ she agreed ruefully.

 _But you are not that person,_ the voice insisted.

The thought was so tempting to believe, and yet she simply couldn't let herself. She _was_ that person, after all. Now in every way. She felt like a fraud for going by the name Jane at all. She wasn't worthy of that name. Jane had been innocent… she hadn't done all of those terrible things. The woman she was now… she'd lost her innocence all at once.

"Jane."

His voice cut through her thoughts, just as he'd always been able to do, simply by saying her name. The name that she no longer deserved. She shivered, feeling worse and worse by the second.

She would have sank to the floor, but as she lowered herself in that direction she realized that, because the room was so small, she was directly beside the bed – if the narrow cot she'd been sleeping on could be considered a bed – so she perched on the edge of that instead.

His hands had rested tentatively on her shoulders, and when she moved he let the motion tug him along with her, so that seconds later, he was sitting on the edge of the bed as well. Her back was still facing him, and he moved up as close behind her as he could. Still she refused to turn around, and he felt her stiffen all over.

This reaction wasn't what he had expected. Her note had said that he hadn't done anything wrong, but if that was the case, then why was she reacting this way to him? He was willing to take what she'd said at face value, however. He didn't think it had been a lie – they'd been through enough with lies early on, and since they'd gotten together for real they had managed honesty, even when it hurt. Looking at it that way, that could only mean that there was something very wrong that was weighing on her mind, something that she wasn't letting herself talk about.

But what? And _why_ didn't she feel like she could tell him? Why was it better to run halfway around the world than to talk to him? That was the part that he needed an answer to the most.

His hands slowly slid down from her shoulders, over the fabric of her white t-shirt. With the lightest touch possible, they moved along the skin of her arms – skin that had been _glowing purple_ only a few minutes before – until he reached where her arms were tightly crossed over her chest. Now pulling her against him tightly as well, crossing his arms over hers, he leaned down towards her ear.

 _God, I missed this,_ he thought as he inhaled deeply before speaking.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he told her quietly, as close to her ear as he could. "I can accept that. What I can't accept is you running away. Not for any reason. Not from _me_. Whatever you think you have to run from, you _don't_. Not from yourself. Not from anyone or anything. We've been through so much… enough for me to know that nothing is going to change."

He let the words sink in, and felt her shudder. He didn't understand what was happening in her head just then – which was unusual for them – but he could tell from her reaction that he wasn't far off. She tensed even further, even as she leaned back into him, her breathing becoming shallower and shallower by the second. This only made him hold on tighter.

 _He has no idea… he's so right and so wrong at the same time. I know I have to tell him, but this is going to change_ _ **everything**_ _._ Her mind was paralyzed with fear. Fear that what she had to say was going to hurt him, fear that now that things had changed, she would _do_ something that would hurt him… fear of herself, like at the beginning when she'd first been Jane. Except now she couldn't fall back on uncertainty. The fear was real. She didn't have to doubt herself. She _knew_ the truth, and it scared her.

"You have literally gone to the ends of the Earth to get away from whatever it is," he told her as calmly as he could, knowing that that was what she needed just then. "Did it work?" he asked.

Her head began to shake slowly. Of course it hadn't worked.

"I refuse to believe that it's me you're running from. I know you, Jane. We're much too good together for that to be true."

He really didn't believe that she was running from him. Surely, her reaction to his arrival had already demonstrated that he was right about that – that she was relieved to see him, even though she was the one who'd left. Still, he sighed with relief when she gently leaned her left cheek against his right, as if in reply. At that moment, it was enough. He felt her shuddering in his arms once again, and that only made him hold on tighter still.

It was surreal, hearing him say almost the exact same words that she'd said inside her head only a few moments before. _The ends of the Earth_. _It wasn't supposed to be an actual place… and yet, this felt like exactly such a place._

 _Does it surprise you?_ the voice in her head asked. _That he would come here to find you? It shouldn't. Not the Kurt that you know. Why did you think that running away would work?_

 _I just… I couldn't think of another way to keep him safe,_ she thought miserably.

 _He doesn't want to be safe, you know,_ the voice told her. _Not if being safe means not having you in his life._

 _I can't do that to him._ The thought was more desperate than the others. No, she had to keep him away from her… no matter how much everything inside her screamed that it was the wrong thing to do.

 _Silly girl,_ the voice replied, almost sadly. _Why do you still think you have a choice? He's not going to give up on you. End of story. You know it's true. He spent twenty-five plus years looking for Taylor. The_ _ **only**_ _reason he gave up was that he found physical evidence that she was dead, and his father confessed to killing her. You know this man too well to think that he's going to give up on you. After all, he's as stubborn as you are._

The more desperately the voice tried to placate her, the more she felt herself losing control of her emotions. She couldn't do this. She _couldn't_. And yet, she knew that she didn't have a choice. It was simply impossible to reconcile what she needed – to protect him at all costs – with what she wanted – quite simply, _him_. It had been simpler, though far from simple, when he was half a world away. Now that he was here… she felt like she was tearing herself apart inside, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

Special Agent Kurt Weller had never been a man who was in touch with his feelings. Actually, he'd done his best to avoid his feelings for most of his life. Until Jane. She had changed everything for him. For Jane, he would do _anything_. Absolutely, literally, anything. Like end up on the top of a mountain in Tibet after six months or more of combing through leads that had led to nothing, refusing to believe that she could not be found. He was not a man to let his emotions get the best of him… unless those emotions dealt with Jane.

"Keep breathing, Jane," he whispered, thinking back to when he'd said the same thing to her so long ago. So many things about her right now were reminding him of the beginning… there had to be a reason why she was so terrified, and it wasn't simply _him_. They'd been deliriously happy, and then something had shifted. The thing he didn't understand was why she hadn't felt like she could talk to him about it. After everything that had happened, that was the part that had hurt him most. Well, that and the fact that she'd simply left. But it didn't change how he felt about her, only made him feel it more desperately.

She recognized the words immediately. _Keep breathing._ They echoed across time and across the world, from New York City years ago to now, here on this mountain. Despite everything that was different, the sentiment, and the person saying them, were the same. His feelings for her had changed since then, however… As strong as they had been then, they were far, far deeper now. She wanted to let his words soothe her, but she knew that she couldn't. Therefore, her reaction was somewhere between a chuckle and a choked sob. They both remembered the first time he'd told her that, as he held her hand on his heart… and yet, that just made it more painful now.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear, hearing his voice breaking as he shook just a little with the build-up of emotion inside him as well. "I know that you know that, but you need to hear it again. And you should also know that I'm not letting you run away."

 _I found her._ _ **I found her**_ _._ It was as though he realized all over again every few minutes that he'd found her, and the novelty and wonder he felt simply never wore off.

She was shaking for real now, not just shuddering, but actually shaking with sobs. He hated that she was crying, and not just a little bit, but crying with every muscle in her body, as if all of the pain that had been stored from everything that she'd gone through over the years but never released, in all the time he'd known her, was now being let out. His chest ached to see her this way, but at least he was _here_ , because the only thing worse than this was to think about her going through this by herself.

She couldn't think. Her emotions had taken over her and she simply couldn't think anymore. He'd pulled his arms tightly around her. He'd whispered in her ear, and that was when she'd lost it. It went so far beyond her not deserving this man – though she definitely didn't. It went so far beyond the fact that she loved him with everything inside her, even though she came up so short in every way when she thought about him…

 _Stop fighting it,_ the voice told her.

Really, she couldn't have fought it anymore if she'd wanted to. Not like this. Not with him here. That was why she'd left. She could keep her feelings in check only if he wasn't there in front of her. Now… with him here… it was impossible, so she stopped trying, letting go of the emotions that had built up inside her for months and months – maybe years. The dam simply burst, and it all flowed out at once.

 _I'm not strong enough,_ she lamented sadly. _I can't do it._

 _You don't have to,_ the voice in her head said soothingly. _Didn't you hear him? There is nowhere you can go to run from this. From him. So you might as well let him back in. Really, I don't know why you think you have a choice in the matter. That's not something to be afraid of, you know. That's something that should make you feel safe._

Slowly, relief pushed its way back into her veins. She hadn't even realized that she'd been crying, as crazy as that seemed, but now she felt the wetness on her cheeks and the spasming of her stomach muscles as her sobs finally began to slow down. She'd completely forgotten her surroundings for a few minutes, but now the world slowly faded back in around her. Kurt's arms were pulled around her shoulders tightly, clasped in front of her, since she was still facing away from him, still sitting on the edge of the small bed. Her breathing slowed, and her left cheek still leaned against his right, which was tilted slightly forward above her left shoulder. His even breathing against her helped her begin to regulate her own, as she attempted to match his rhythm.

Now she closed her eyes, feeling drained of every bit of energy, as if it was suddenly too much effort to even keep her eyes open. Turning around slowly, her eyes still closed, she felt his arms loosen just barely enough to allow her movement, but still holding onto her firmly. She continued turning until she was facing him, her head dropping down onto his right shoulder but her eyes still closed. At that moment she felt as though she had no strength left inside her.

"You should get some sleep," he told her, rubbing her back slowly, back and forth, with one hand, while his other arm remained securely around her shoulders. He wasn't sure what to do, or how she was going to feel about any of this, only that he wasn't going to leave her alone. The farthest he was going to go from her, if she wanted him to, was across the room. That was it. Taking his eyes off of her at that moment was something that no force on Earth was going to convince him to do.

She couldn't argue with the fact that she needed sleep, that was for sure, but she swore she was even too exhausted to sleep. Besides, if he moved anywhere farther away from her, she was fairly sure that she would simply collapse.

"If you need some space…" he asked her tentatively, "I can—"

But her head was already shaking against his shoulder, and her arms moved slowly, tentatively up to his waist, as if she wasn't sure whether or not she should put them around him. She didn't feel like she had any right to seek comfort from him after what she'd put him through, and yet… she couldn't help it. Over these past months she had successfully convinced herself that she didn't deserve to lean on him, and yet with him there beside her, that resolve crumbled. She found that all she wanted just then was for him to never ever move any farther away from her than he was just then. This wasn't rationally possible, of course, but it also wasn't fair, since _she'd_ been the one to run away from _him_. It was all so complicated.

He chuckled at her quick reaction, and smiled in relief. He didn't _want_ to be anywhere but exactly where he was, but he wanted to respect her wishes. Whatever the reason that she'd left, and that she'd ended up here, he had to accept that she would need time to work it all out. He knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't have run to the end of the Earth just on a whim. Then again, he would never have _thought_ that she would've left him for any reason at all…

 _Easy,_ he told himself. _You're both here, and it's going to be okay._

He'd told her that she needed to come home because Reade, Tasha and Patterson were missing, and that wasn't a lie – as they could already see from the box, he needed her help to find them. Still, as much as he thought that she would come back just knowing that, he couldn't be certain. Really, he couldn't be sure of anything anymore, except of his feelings for her. He wanted to ask her again to come home with him, to tell her that it wasn't just because their friends were missing that he wanted – no, _needed_ – her back. Because more than anything, _he_ needed her. Not because she could help him, but because he couldn't conceive of a life without her.

 _She should know that. I'm sure I don't have to tell her… didn't she know that when she left? Should I have told her more often how important she was to me?_ His thoughts were just as confused as hers, just different.

 _Relax,_ he told himself again, almost the same way he would have if he'd been talking to Jane. _It's going to be okay._ Hadn't he told her that, back at the beginning?

Scooting back farther on the bed so that he reached the far side, he leaned slowly down to his right, his head moving toward the pillow. Her head moved with him until she was about to fall over from the odd angle, and at that point, she turned around, lowering herself without a word or a second thought – without _any_ thought, really. Now lying down in front of him, she settled against him with her back securely against his chest.

She felt tears leaking out of her eyes again, and she wondered how much of the emotion pouring out of her was exhaustion, and how much of it was the fact that she was really and truly emotional… because of course, she was both.

The feeling of his face pressing into her hair on the back of her head threatened the delicate balance of her emotions that was already slipping out of her control.

"Ssshhhh," he told her, as much for his own benefit as hers. She nodded and swallowed hard, but said nothing, attempting to reign herself in once more, but feeling what little composure she had mustered fading quickly. She was simply too tired for this… in every way.

"Here we are at the ends of the Earth," he whispered, moving his face out of her hair so that she could hear him better. "And it's still okay. _We're_ still okay, alright?" He made a conscious decision to tell her that they were okay rather than ask her, because he couldn't stand the thought of getting anything other than an affirmative answer. They _had to_ be okay… They _would_ be okay…

He smoothed her hair, his fingers skimming her cheek, which made her turn slightly toward him. "Sleep now," he whispered, and she leaned back down against the pillow, focusing on breathing evenly.

Jane nodded, feeling exhaustion take over. Now that he was here, now that they were together, she might be able to sleep for the first time since she'd left him.

 _I left him,_ she thought, not quite believing it herself. Squeezing her eyes shut tightly, she released a new cascade of tears as her chest ached all over again. _Of all the things I've done, that might be the worst one_ , she thought just as she was beginning to fall asleep. _And worst of all, I knew exactly what it would do to him._

She felt herself jerking awake again, her mind attempting to pull her body back from the brink of sleep. Then, in the next second, she saw a parade of images marching through her mind of all of the _other_ horrible things she had done, mostly as Remi. She remembered them now. _All of them_. It was no wonder she hadn't been able to sleep for months, ever since it had all come back. That was why she'd left. Because if she was remembering being Remi, then how could she be sure she wouldn't keep right on changing… how could she be sure that she wouldn't _become_ Remi again? It put him in too much danger to stay, and she just couldn't risk it, no matter that everything inside her wanted to be with him.

Just as she seemed to be falling asleep, he felt her startle then pull away from him, as if she was trying to curl into herself. She'd obviously thought of _something_ that had caused that reaction. "Jane," he whispered, "it's all okay."

 _How can you be this calm?_ he asked himself, slightly in shock. _After all of these months of searching, of heartache, of fear… have you forgotten how it tore you apart?_

 _Of course not,_ the calm side of his brain reasoned. _But I know Jane. She's still the same person, the one I_ _ **married**_ _. Something made her run, and I'm going to find out what it is, and we're going to figure it out. As bad as that felt, this isn't about me. Later, it can be about me. This is about her right now. It just…_ _ **has to be**_ _. We can't both break down at the same time… She needs me._

Her hands were tucked up in front of her protectively, her chin down, and her legs pulling farther and farther in, as though she was slowly pulling into a fetal position. Kurt's left arm, which was already around her, followed the line of her arm slowly until it reached her hand, which was balled into a fist alongside her right and tucked under her chin. His thumb reached up to her cheek and swiped several times, so lightly that it almost wasn't there, the rest of his hand partway around her clenched fist, which was tucked under her chin. Gradually, he felt the muscles there relax.

 _It's been months since you remembered and you haven't become Remi, as you seem to think you're going to,_ the voice in her head reminded her. _Do you think maybe you overreacted?_

That was a hard thing to think, because if she _had_ overreacted, then she'd left him for no reason. She'd _hurt_ him for no reason, and made him chase her across the world _for no reason._

 _What kind of a person_ _ **does**_ _that?_ she thought desperately.

 _The kind of person whose love for someone else is so big that she would sacrifice the only thing in the world that she really wants in order to keep him safe,_ the voice in her head replied, right on cue.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered yet again, realizing that he was probably saying it as much for himself as for her. Just then, they both needed to hear it. When he felt her relax back against him once more, he felt relief flood through him all over again.

It was going to be like this for a while, he knew. It would take a while before they got out of this place emotionally, where every move, every breath, every gesture was so potentially painful. It wouldn't be forever, but it would be a slow road back… and that was okay. After all, look at the road that had led them to each other. It had been worth it, and it would be again. Yes, it would be a while before they got back to what was _normal_ for them. But he'd always been stubborn, as had Jane, and there was nothing in the world that was going to convince him to give up on her. Really, he felt like he'd already proven that.

Once again, she was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, wanting to drop off to sleep but held prisoner in that drowsy state by her mind. At this point, she was simply overwhelmed, and sleep would have been a welcome relief, but her thoughts continued to spin.

While she was slowly relaxing again, he could tell even from behind her that she was still awake. He was feeling sleepy now, after the long journey and the relief of finding her, but he vowed to himself to do what he could to stay awake until she had fallen asleep – and not because he was afraid that she would run. Well, maybe there was a _little_ bit of that fear mixed in with the rest of his emotions… Surely that was a normal reaction, all things considered…

He didn't know why, but at that moment he thought back to that day when they'd been on the plane to DC, after Patterson had told him that Jane was considering leaving the FBI – right at the tail end of the Sandstorm case. It occurred to him in hindsight, and not for the first time, that their misunderstanding that time had come about because neither of them wanted to say too much, or to unduly influence the other one's actions, and so neither of them had said what they really felt. She'd never wanted to leave, but had been afraid that _he_ was going to leave and didn't want to be left behind. If they'd both just spoken up from the start…

So he decided to do just that. "There are so many things that I love about you," he began softly. "It's hard to decide what I love the most… but interestingly enough, it just might be one of the things I find most frustrating about you, too." He knew that that would get her attention, assuming that she was still awake enough to listen, and he chuckled at how strange his words sounded, even to him, as he continued.

"Your heart is so big, and you can't help but put everyone else before yourself. I've watched you do it for as long as I've known you. Even when you _should_ take yourself into consideration, when you _should_ remind yourself that you matter too, for some reason you make everyone else more important. And for some reason, I feel like that had something to do with how we ended up here, in this tent."

She'd already been too exhausted for words when they'd laid down, and she was dumbfounded by the fact that his words had just struck so close to the heart of what was really going on. It certainly hadn't taken him long to tune back into her thoughts, that was for sure. Saying nothing, she forced herself to take deep breaths. If he'd figured that part out, then what _else_ had he also realized about her…?

"Luckily for you," he continued in the same low, even voice, "I'm not going to let you sacrifice yourself for the good of everyone else. I almost made that mistake once, a few years ago. Never again."

He was referring, of course, to sending her into Sandstorm, into the lion's den, undercover. When they'd started that mission, he'd been so angry with her that he'd felt as though she owed it to the FBI, to him, to bring down those terrorists – her _family_ – no matter the danger to her. The incredible thing had been that she'd seemed to agree. She'd never batted an eye at the danger they'd asked – no, _demanded_ – that she put herself into. She'd been perfectly willing to do so, acting as though she hadn't expected to make it out alive.

"And now, I need your stubborn mind to turn off so that you, Jane, can go to sleep," he told her, leaning down to kiss the top of her left shoulder, where her skin was exposed beside the neckline of her t-shirt.

She didn't turn to look at him, but she smiled, feeling herself finally relax. No wonder the monk had seen longing in her eyes. Even when she didn't want to believe it, she _had_ been longing for him. She just hadn't wanted to admit it to herself. But she could have climbed that mountain a thousand times, or a million… that feeling never would have left her, no matter how much she liked to pretend. And now that she didn't have to long for him anymore, or to fight herself and deny that that was what she was doing, the weight was lifting. Slowly, but it was lifting.

 _Don't think about the rest of it,_ she ordered herself. _Not yet. Right now, sleep._

When he felt her relax completely, heard her breathing even out so that he knew she had finally fallen asleep, he sighed with relief.

 _Finally,_ he thought. They had a long, long road ahead of them – both the actual journey that would take them back to New York, and the metaphorical road that would get them back to _them_ – but he'd never backed down from a challenge, and he wasn't about to start now. What _had_ scared him, he could see now, were the times when he had feared for her safety, her well-being. Not just when she'd left him, but before that, when their work had put her in danger. Looking back, the only thing that had _really_ scared him had been the thought of something happening to Jane, the thought of losing her.

 _You'd better rest up for that long road,_ the voice in his head told him. _You've had a hell of a couple months yourself._

His eyes were already closing, and he now actually _smiled_ at the thought. He knew it was crazy that the thought of the long trip back to New York made him not just smile, but feel slightly giddy. In reality, though, it wasn't the thought of the journey itself that was making him smile. It was the thought of Jane… No, the _reality_ of Jane, there in front of him and tucked safely into his arms. How in the world could he _not_ smile, when he'd fulfilled the need that he'd had for each and every day of the months that she'd been gone? He'd found her.

 _For God's sake, go to sleep,_ he told himself, wondering how he was even still awake. _There's plenty of time for thinking tomorrow, and the next day and the next._

 _Sleep. Here with Jane._ Yes, the thought was appealing. Even though the fear was there that he would wake up and find her gone, he knew that he needed to sleep. That fear would probably last for a long time, but he couldn't let it cripple him. Hopefully by showing up here, he'd already demonstrated to her that running away from him wasn't a solution that was going to work. In any case, his eyes were growing heavy and he knew that any second, his mind would finally surrender.

He inhaled the scent of her, so close in front of him, exhaling slowly. _Jane_ , he thought simply, his lips curling into a smile. That was enough to help his mind relax, and at that moment, he too fell asleep.

X

Despite the fact that the windowless tent provided excellent insolation from the light outside, Jane had awoken early every single day since she'd arrived on that mountain. The monks awoke with the sun, and the sounds of their going about their business outside were audible, though not disturbing, and generally helped to rouse her. She'd never been a good sleeper anyway, always having had so much weighing on her mind, so their activity provided a reason for her to be up, to help with whatever needed to be done that day, and to prepare herself to climb the mountain once again.

This day, however, Jane did not stir at the usual early hour to which she had become accustomed. There was no alarm clock, of course, so she didn't know exactly what time it _was_ when she first thought of opening her eyes, only that she felt more rested than she had since leaving home. Not yet fully conscious, she was still in that blissful state in which everything was fuzzy, her thoughts not yet quite making sense. However, the sudden realization that she was not alone in her little bed helped to accelerate the return of her memories of the previous night, and in seconds it all came flooding back to her.

 _Kurt. Here. What do I—_

"Good morning," came a low, raspy voice from over her shoulder. Before she'd even had time to form a complete thought, she felt herself smiling broadly. Suddenly needing to _see_ him with her own eyes, she craned her neck to look back at him over her shoulder. It wasn't enough, however, so she began to turn the rest of her body over – no small feat in such a small, crowded bed. Understanding what she was attempting to do, he leaned back as much as he could to give her space to move, settling back down against her as soon as she finished moving, and looking into her eyes.

She was smiling at him, he couldn't help but notice immediately. That smile that he'd missed every second of every day… He felt his chest ache as once again as he was overwhelmed by her. He took her smile as a good sign.

"Good morning," she said, her voice equally scratchy. She felt simultaneously more exhausted and more energized than ever before, and couldn't help but smile at the thought. This was his effect on her – giving her strength even when logically, she should have none. Then, her smile fading, she looked into his eyes seriously. "I… I don't know where to start," she said, her voice breaking before she'd even finished one sentence, as she looked down at their hands. He'd clasped the fingers of his right hand firmly around hers, his left hand laid over her waist. It all felt impossibly familiar, even though she knew that she didn't deserve such an intimate gesture from him. Not anymore… not after what she'd done.

"None of that," he replied, lifting his hand off of her waist to bring it up to her face, and then resting his index finger against her lips to stop her from saying anything else. "Start with this." Leaning forward, he waited until the last second to remove his finger from her lips, moving his hand to her cheek just before their lips met. It took her a few seconds, but she kissed him back, though hesitantly, feeling unworthy of this level of devotion.

 _You are not unworthy,_ the voice in her head said loudly, _stop telling yourself that. He loves you_ _ **because**_ _of who you are, not in spite of it._

It was tempting to give in and do as the voice suggested, but she knew that it wasn't realistic. It just wasn't that simple. After all, she hadn't left on a whim. As much as she wanted to believe that they could end up living happily ever after, the reality was that she probably couldn't fix this.

 _That's not fair. You haven't even given him a chance to try,_ her mind said reproachfully.

 _I was protecting him,_ she protested.

 _Well,_ _ **stop it**_ _,_ the voice replied in frustration. _He's not going to give up on you, and you shouldn't either. Don't pretend that's what you want._

 _It's not about what I want_ , she thought sadly, beginning to pull away.

There was hesitation as she'd kissed him back, but it was a starting point. Nothing about this was going to be easy, and once again, he was okay with that. Leaning back, he tried to look into her eyes, but she refused to meet his. "Jane," he said softly, the tip of his nose touching the tip of hers, and their foreheads touching slightly, "I love you."

He felt her head start to shake back and forth against his, as if she was about to protest. "Oh no, it doesn't work like that. You can't _stop_ me," he told her, smiling slightly at his own attempt at humor despite the seriousness of the situation. "I suppose that you can tell me that I shouldn't, maybe even try to convince me, but I can tell you right now that I'm not going to listen. You're just going to have to accept it. _I love you_. Okay?" There was so much more he wanted to say, but he decided to leave it at that for the time being.

With a sigh, she nodded ever so slightly, looking down again as a small, pained smile crossed her face.

 _Breathe_ , she told herself. For once, she took her own advice, just focusing on the fact that he was there in front of her.

 _Why does this feel harder than climbing that mountain?_ she wondered.

 _So don't make it hard,_ the voice in her head replied, as if it was just that easy.

Her eyes moved slowly back up to his, reluctantly, where she found him watching her carefully, a smile on his face. _Will he smile, when he finds out?_ she wondered sadly.

 _There's only one way to find out,_ the voice pointed out.

 _Not yet,_ she thought. _I just… I can't… not yet._

It was such hard work to smile at him when inside she felt so conflicted, especially because he was looking at her without judgement. She certainly didn't deserve _that._ On the contrary, she deserved to be judged, and for _so many more things_ than she'd realized before…

His hand was still on her cheek, she now noticed, his thumb moving across her skin slowly, evenly. It was soothing, just as it had always been when he'd done that in the past. _The past_. There was both so much good and so much bad mixed up in their past, and it was both painful and wonderful and—

 _Stop it_ , she commanded herself. _You're going to get caught in the spiral again. Focus._ She forced herself to focus only on his hand on her cheek, his thumb moving back and forth. Her eyes closed on their own as she tried to push the other thoughts away.

"Will you come back with me, Jane? Back home?" she heard him ask. If she didn't know better, she'd have said that he sounded afraid of her answer.

 _You did leave, after all,_ the voice in her head reminded her. _There was no guarantee that you would come back… and that's the one thing he wants._

"Yes," she whispered, knowing that she shouldn't, for his sake, but unable to fight the need to be with him. Besides, not only was pushing him away clearly not going to work, her friends needed her. She couldn't let them down, not for anything. It looked like they were in danger because of her, for whatever reason.

She felt the need to explain everything to him then and there, but she wasn't sure how or where to start. Shaking her head, she searched desperately for the words. "I'm sorry, Kurt, I know I…" But nothing else would come. Sighing in frustration because the words were once again bottled up inside her, she looked away from him, leaning her forehead down until it was against his shoulder. She'd promised him that she could explain, and yet here she was, unable to even form a whole sentence.

He leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. "That's all I need right now," he said, letting his face rest in her hair. "I just need _you_."His left hand moved off of her cheek, his arm wrapping around her slowly once again, holding on tight. They would get up soon, but not quite yet.


	2. Because of Who You Are

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

She let herself lie there, her head on his shoulder, just focusing on breathing in and out in rhythm with him. The relief she felt to be there beside him, after so many days and nights of telling herself that she was never going to see him again, was so immense and so overpowering that she honestly couldn't have explained how she'd left him in the first place. Right now she didn't even want to imagine moving an inch.

Of course, there had been so much more to it than that – why she'd left. At that moment, however, everything seemed unimportant except the fact that she was leaning against him, inhaling his scent, and that he was holding onto her. No, leaving him behind was something that she knew then that she'd never be able to do again. Not only that, but she was pretty sure that she'd never be able to make it up to him after doing it once. All she kept thinking to herself was that if she were him, _she_ never could have forgiven her, and it made her chest ache. Why did it seem like when she was faced with an important decision, she only ever made the wrong one? All she'd ever wanted was to protect him, and she seemed to just keep doing it wrong.

 _And yet, he followed you around the world and showed up here,_ the voice in her head observed. _So you couldn't have done_ _ **everything**_ _wrong._

His left arm had loosened from around her back and his hand moved to curl between them, his fingers interlacing themselves with those of her right hand. Unsure whether she did it on purpose or not, somehow her fingertips found and began fidgeting with the ring on his fourth finger.

 _The ring he was still wearing after all this time. After she had left him and disappeared from the life they'd had together. The life where she'd been deliriously happy…_

Her breath caught in her chest for a second and she felt herself flinch inside at the thought of everything she'd given up, that she'd _thrown away_. She moved her fingertips around and around the smooth metal of his ring, as if seeking comfort from it. If she was lucky, maybe the prickly sensation she felt in her eyes wasn't really impending tears… but she knew that realistically, she was probably about to cry again. Really, at this point, what was the difference?

Drawing himself back slightly to look down at her, he watched as she avoided meeting his eyes, hiding behind hair that had conveniently fallen in her face. Shifting slightly so that he could use his right arm, on which he'd been leaning, he brushed the hair out of her face with his right hand, then let his hand settle on the top of her head, holding her hair back so that he could look into her eyes. However, she didn't look up, but instead stared at his ring as she continued to fidget with it, guilt written all over her face.

For a minute, he just watched her, wondering whether he should say what he was thinking. In the end, he decided that if he wasn't going to, then there was no point in having come here. "I kept it on because… I couldn't give up on you. Not even when the others gave me that look… the one where it had been weeks, months, with no leads… like they pitied me… like they expected me to give up." He brushed his fingertips with hers against the smooth metal of his ring, the sensation giving him chills. "I have it… _yours_ ," he told her, adding the last word hesitantly.

Slowly, she finally looked up at him and saw that he looked just as vulnerable as she felt. His left hand reluctantly disengaged from her right as he reached into his left pocket.

"Wait, you have it… _with you_?" she asked in surprise, then watched as he pulled out a tiny ring box. Her mouth dropped even farther open when she saw what he was doing. "You carried it _in your pocket?_ From New York?" She was dumbfounded, to put it mildly, and really didn't know what else to say.

Smiling slightly, a hint of sadness in his eyes, he shrugged. "I wanted to be able to reassure myself that it was there," he told her quietly, glancing down at the box, then slowly back up at her. At various stages of the trip, the box containing the ring had been like a talisman, something that he had to touch every once in a while to reassure himself that he was really doing what he thought he was doing, reminding him of what was at stake, and that what they had had was real, and not something that he had simply imagined.

"Does that mean…?" She stopped, unable to continue. If she asked whether he was willing to give it back to her and he said no… she didn't think she could stand it.

 _But he brought it all the way from New York._ _ **In his pocket**_ _. He's not going to refuse to give it back to you now,_ the voice in her head reassured her.

Still, she couldn't be sure until she had confirmation. Even though it made perfect sense to her, everything seemed to carry more weight than usual between them right now. Her emotions were so highly charged, even such a seemingly simple thing made her so nervous it was hard to breathe normally.

 _There's nothing about this that's simple,_ she told herself, swallowing hard.

 _He's your_ _ **husband**_ _, and he followed your across the world – that part_ _ **is**_ _simple,_ the voice in her head told her sternly _. If that's not love, then explain to me what it is_.

 _I don't…_ She started to protest, but she realized that she was only doing it because she was scared. With a sigh, all she could think was, _I hope you're right about that._

At the same time, he was wondering if he should ask her if she wanted her ring back, but he was terrified that she would say no. Not because she looked like she would, because from the look on her face, they understood each other perfectly. But then again, he'd thought that before she'd left, too. He would never in a million years have thought that she would have left him, not for any reason. He'd thought that they'd been _happy…_ This doubt colored everything now, and everything that he'd once been sure of seemed to suddenly be in question. He was trying to reconcile her leaving in his head, but it just felt… impossible.

 _This is not the same as her leaving, and you know it,_ he told himself. He _did_ , of course, and yet… He didn't know anything for sure anymore.

No, he couldn't bring himself to _ask_ her if she wanted her ring back, so he simply flipped open the box and took the ring out between his fingers. All he could do was hope that they weren't shaking too obviously as he attempted to hold it steady. He glanced from her face back to the ring, then up at her again to see her bite her lip. It appeared that she was trying to catch her breath, and for a second he nervously held his as well, not even noticing it.

Unable to bring herself to say anything, she simply raised her left hand slowly until it was close to where he had clasped the ring between his fingers. She was trying to keep her hand from shaking, but she wasn't doing a very good job, and she wondered if he could see it. Their eyes met then, both of them watching the other nervously for a few seconds before she smiled at him sadly, feeling the muscles in her face begin to contract slowly as she fought off the tears that she knew were coming. Why did every single tiny little part of this have to be so _hard_?

"Hey," he whispered, beginning to panic when he saw the expression on her face. After all, he knew from experience that this was the look that came right before she started crying. "Jane… don't. _Please…_ " His voice broke on the last word, and he paused only for a second before adding, "You know how much I hate to see you cry." Then, without any further hesitation, he slipped the ring back onto her finger. "It's okay," he added in a whisper so quiet, she wouldn't have heard him if they hadn't been only inches apart.

When the ring was back in place on her finger, she was surprised when he held onto her hand gently instead of letting go, and she momentarily forgot that she'd been about to cry. Just like it sometimes had in the past, his thumb pressed into the middle of her palm and moved ever so slightly, the other four fingers sitting so that they just barely touched the skin on the back of her hand. The gesture was even more soothing than it had been before, the familiarity of it giving her chills. The tip of his ring finger moved back and forth over the smooth metal of her ring, just as her finger had done on his ring only minutes before.

Feeling a surge of both joy and heartache at the same time, she bit her lip in an attempt to hold in the emotions that couldn't be contained, forcing her face into a smile even as she felt herself on the verge of falling apart.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered again, and Jane nodded quickly, her smile increasing in brightness to compensate for the feeling that she had that she was falling towards an abyss, as stray tears leaked from her eyes. She swatted at them with her free hand, but didn't really succeed at clearing them off of her face, and gave up.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she nodded again, more slowly this time. "Yeah," she exhaled quietly, shifting her hand so that she could curl her fingers around his thumb. She wouldn't feel right until she could explain to him what had happened, but once again, the words were lodged in her chest. Her stress level began to rise again just thinking about all the things she needed to say to him. However, she looked up into his eyes then, and found him looking back at her with so much emotion, so much love, that she couldn't help but relax again as everything else but that moment melted away.

"We should get up, I guess," she said reluctantly, not wanting to break either eye contact or physical contact with him, much less move far enough away from him as would be required to be able to stand up. But it was the only way to get back, she knew, and they needed to go back. Besides, all she really wanted, she now had once again, she reminded herself – namely, _him._ Now it was time to go back and save their friends.

"Yeah, we should," he agreed. "Is there anything you need to do before we go?" he asked her.

"There's one thing I want to show you," she replied quietly. "It's not far."

"Okay," he agreed, tugging her hand toward him so that he could kiss the back of it gently. "I missed you, Jane."

Despite the fact that she'd felt steadier until that moment, a sob escaped her unexpectedly then, as she felt her chest tighten and tears threatened to fall yet again. Once again, the enormity of what she had done washed over her and her eyes closed, as if she could somehow block it out.

"Hey, Jane," he said quickly, watching the effect that his words had had on her, "I didn't say that to make you feel cry, or to make you feel guilty." He leaned his face towards her until their foreheads were touching again. "Okay? I said it because it's true, and I wanted you to know."

Her eyes were now squeezed shut, but despite this there was a torrent of tears somehow leaking out of them, and her whole body began to shake. It was too much. Again, all she could think was that she had walked out on him, and how unworthy of him she was. Suddenly, his arms were around her tightly and he was pulling her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Come on, Jane, we can do this, okay?" he asked insistently, his voice full of emotion. He was still so full of fear and doubt himself, left over from the past six months, and he honestly didn't know where the certainty he was projecting came from.

 _Because you found her,_ the voice in his head told him, _and because she needs you to be the strong one right now._ And because they understood each other well, he'd known that without actually realizing it.

They laid there, still holding onto each other for minutes that blurred into each other, and slowly he felt her breathing stabilize again. Though he didn't want to, he slowly managed to sit up, pulling her right along with him. Because of the way they'd been lying facing each other, when they stopped shifting, she was curled up in his lap.

"I would like nothing better than to stay just like this for a long, long time," he told her soothingly, "but…"

"I know," she replied, smiling weakly at him and wondering how she was going to force herself to stand up when the only place she wanted to be was exactly where she was. The thumb on her left hand played with the metal of her wedding ring, and she glanced down at it and smiled, despite the tears that had just barely stopped falling. Her smile didn't go unnoticed, of course.

"Thank you," she whispered. There were so many things she should be thanking him for just then, and she didn't know if he could understand just how much it meant to her that he was there. As much as she'd protested to the monks and to herself that she could never go back, being with him was really the only thing she had ever known for sure that she really, truly wanted, and now that he'd forced his way past her selfless insistence that she protect him even if it broke her heart to do so… Well, she was grateful that he was as stubborn as she was.

They both held on tightly to each other for another minute, knowing that standing up was inevitable, but that it was only the next step, and that it was one they would take together. Therefore, as they leaned into each other and simply inhaled the moment for which they had both yearned for so long, a feeling of peace came over both of them – differently, but also the same. Once again, her head rested on his shoulder. His right arm was securely around her, his elbow bent so that his right hand could move back and forth slowly over the spot on her back where the dark ink formed his name. He didn't need to see it to know where it was. It was a gesture so soothingly familiar, one that he'd done so many times, and it helped both of them to relax.

"Ready?" he asked her after a few minutes.

"Yeah," she replied slowly, feeling tired and yet energized at the same time. Reluctantly withdrawing her arms from around him, she leaned back and looked into his eyes, a genuine smile on her face.

Seeing her expression, he smiled as well. "That's better," he said, pressing the tip of his nose against hers, which made her smile even wider. "Is there anywhere we can brush our teeth around here?" he asked, which made her laugh.

"Yes, of course. Come on," she replied, lifting herself up off of his lap, and immediately missing the closeness. He stood up beside her, watching as she gathered a few drawings that she had done and set them carefully into her backpack. "Everything else is in there already," she shrugged, and he noted with surprise just how little she appeared to be carrying as she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder.

For a second he had a flashback to her safe house after she'd "come back" from the CIA black site ("come back" had always sounded better than "been captured and forced to come back"). It had been completely devoid of personal possessions, everything having been confiscated after her arrest. He hated to think of her living with nothing, either then or now.

There was a strange look on his face, almost disapproving, that she noticed had been a response to the last thing she'd said.

"How do you have so little?" he asked. "How did you even make it here?"

She shrugged in reply, not wanting to admit how much of how she'd come to the monks had been because of the kindness of strangers that she'd met at various points along the way and sheer dumb luck. She hadn't prepared herself properly, hadn't had half of the things she had needed, since she hadn't really had a destination in mind. All she'd been able to think was that she had to get as far away as possible, and really, looking back now she knew that logically she shouldn't have made it here.

But she had, somehow. And really, she could say that about a lot of different parts of her life.

Forcing himself to push aside the thoughts of how little she had with her, he focused simply on _her_ once again, and the fact that she was real, there in front of him. The novelty of this fact had not yet worn off, and he suspected that it wouldn't for quite a long time. After as long as they had spent apart, and as badly as her absence had hurt him, it was hard to believe that this was actually real.

Unable to resist the urge to reach for her, even though they still had to exit through the narrow opening, he took her right hand in his. Stepping behind her, one after the other they ducked their heads and walked back out of the tent that she had occupied for the past several months. As soon as they were outside, the cool breeze reminded them that they were in the mountains. Standing side by side and looking around at the activity around them, Kurt switched hands so that she was holding her right in his left, holding on tightly as if they could somehow combat the chill in the air this way.

Jane found herself smiling shyly at him, as several of the monks looked up at them and smiled, then went about their business. Reminding herself that despite the novelty of how she felt, there was no reason to feel self-conscious – he was, after all, her husband – she led him a short distance to a pump that stuck out of the ground. A bucket sat underneath the mechanism to catch the water that was pumped out.

"Not glamorous, but it does the job," she said, reaching into the pocket of her backpack and producing a toothbrush and toothpaste. Then eyeing him teasingly, she asked, "Do you have one? Or do you want to share?"

He couldn't help but grin, feeling slightly giddy as he thought about the fact that he was here at all, standing in front of Jane and she was teasing him about sharing a toothbrush. It was all simply too good to be true. "Oh, I have one… but it's in my other bag. Which I left with one of the monks," he explained. That explained why she hadn't seen another bag, and why he'd shown up with only a tiny backpack that seemed to contain only the large metal box. "So if you're willing to share…" His words trailed off and he reached for her hand once again. She'd had to disengage from him when she'd taken out her toothbrush, and it already felt like too long since they'd had contact with one another.

"Hold on, silly," she grinned back at him, pulling her hand back from his so that she could pump a tiny bit of water, holding her toothbrush under the pump and then adding a dot of toothpaste. She held it out to him, but he shook his head.

"You first," he insisted, and she just smiled, shaking her head as she took the first turn brushing her teeth. When she was finished, he took the toothbrush and toothpaste from her and pumped a small amount of water into her hands so that she could bring it to her mouth to rinse the toothpaste out. She took a few steps away before spit it into onto the ground, careful not to make it splash back onto her boots.

When she walked back, he was brushing his teeth but his eyes were on her, every part of his face seeming to smile at her. Just as she felt her eyes constantly pulled back to him as if by magnetic force, it made sense that after all this time, he would be watching her as well. She knew well the feeling of slight desperation to be reassured that he was really there, after all, because she felt it too. It was hard to ignore the thought that she didn't deserve to feel as happy and safe just standing there with him as she did – not after she'd been the one who'd left – but thankfully she was so overwhelmed with happiness by his presence that it helped to push all other thoughts aside for the moment.

When they were both finished brushing their teeth, she replaced the toothbrush and toothpaste in her backpack, took the extra water that had collected in the bucket to wash away the remains of the toothpaste, and replaced the bucket before picking up her backpack once more.

"I just need to get the rest of my things from the monks," he told her.

Nodding, she smiled teasingly. "Yeah, I'd been wondering if you'd traveled all the way here with only that metal box." He couldn't help but grin at her in return. This was all too good to be true, and at that moment, she was smiling. That in and of itself meant everything – he'd wondered if he'd ever get to see that smile again, and the fear he'd felt at the thought that he _wouldn't_ had been crippling at times, while it had fueled his determination at others.

Yes, there was a hard road ahead of them, and not just the literal one that they had to walk on, but then again, their path hadn't exactly been easy up to now, either. No, it seemed that they'd mastered the art of flirting while in the most dangerous of situations, actually – while diffusing bombs, among others. Still, at that moment they faced perhaps their biggest challenge to date, so he was even more grateful to see that even if it was only for a few minutes, she was smiling.

"We'll find that after I show you that thing I was talking about," she told him, this time reaching for _his_ hand. Tugging him along with her, she began walking, and he followed her lead, moving closer to her and letting go of her hand so that he could thread his left arm around her waist. They fit together perfectly, just as they always had, even as they walked along side by side. This time, they both pulled each other closer than usual.

It wasn't a long walk to where they were going, and in a few minutes they were standing near the edge of what Kurt was surprised to see was a _very_ steep drop off a cliff, especially for one to which they were standing so very close. The uneven rocks below stuck out at odd angles, but made a nearly ninety degree angle towards the ground, which was far, far below.

 _Damn, but that's a long way down,_ he thought. _No wonder it was so hard to get up here._ He'd taken the path that wound along the other side of the mountain, of course, but even though it had been steep, it hadn't looked nearly as dramatic as this view did.

Gazing out over the valley below, he looked at the landscape, and then turned his head in her direction. Yes, the view was breathtaking, but he'd rather look at her. However, he found that her expression was no longer a smile, but now something more serious. Craning her neck slightly to look down at the rocks below, she finally spoke. "I climbed that."

Leaning forward slowly to look down at the wall of rocks that almost seemed to continue indefinitely to the ground _far_ below them, he looked back up at her in surprise. "You… climbed that…? That _cliff_?" he echoed in surprise.

Nodding seriously, she paused to remember those daily climbs. "Every day since I got here."

"You… but… every _day?_ " he echoed, not quite sure he'd heard her right.

"Yep. Every day."

"But… Jane… you could have…" He was trying to compose himself, and not to act as shocked as he felt, but it wasn't proving easy. _She could have fallen to her death._ _ **Easily**_."I'm, uh, guessing there's no safety equipment around here…" he stuttered, completely unnerved by the idea that his wife had been rock climbing on _that_ cliff, completely unprotected, and that one misstep on any one of those climbs would have meant...

The look on her face answered him before she had a chance to think of what to say. She knew that he wasn't going to like the answer, and she certainly wasn't going to add that even her clothing had been ill-advised, especially her loose fitting t-shirt. Thinking about it now, she really _was_ lucky to still be alive.

 _Apparently you didn't stop acting recklessly after the whole Sandstorm infiltration, or on your poorly planned journey to get here in the first place_ the voice in her head observed.

With a sigh, she looked down, knowing that what she'd done hadn't been smart. "I'm sorry," she told him softly. "I wasn't _trying_ to be reckless…"

"I'm… I'm just glad I didn't have to watch," he told her, looking back out at the view and trying to erase the image he was seeing in his mind, of Jane plummeting to the ground below.

"When I climbed it the last time, yesterday, I got to the top… and the monk who was waiting for me told me that I should go home. That… there was _longing in my eyes_ ," she told him quietly.

"And let me guess… you had no intention of doing that, did you?" he asked. There was hurt in his voice, and she knew that he wasn't trying to make her feel guilty, but that it was genuinely just how he felt. Of course it was. Wouldn't she have felt the same way in his situation? She avoided his eyes, looking down at the rocky cliff. However, when she continued to feel him watching her, after a minute she finally gave in and looked up at him. His eyes were a swirl of emotions, but the prominent one just then was hurt, just as she'd expected.

Suddenly, she felt as though she absolutely couldn't walk another step until she told him the truth. It was weighing her down, she realized, no matter that he was being so understanding, and that he hadn't pressed her to talk about anything. Dropping her arm from around his waist, she sank to the ground where she stood, pushing her backpack off onto the ground and then pulling her knees up in front of her, wrapping her arms around them tightly. She took several deep breaths through her mouth, in and out slowly, trying to calm herself down as she stared out into the distance. Even though she didn't turn, or even look in his direction, she could feel him drop down beside her.

"I'm sorry," he said, leaning closer to her but leaving a small space between them, keeping his hands to himself for the moment. "I didn't mean for it to sound so…" He sighed heavily, abandoning the sentence there. He didn't even know _what_ he was trying to say, only that he hadn't meant to upset her once again.

"Please don't be," she whispered, dismayed to feel her emotions quickly rise to the surface again. " _None_ of this is your fault." Then, in an even quieter voice, she added, "It was all me. Just like it always was." Just like that, she felt tears in her eyes all over again, and once again she wondered how she could possibly have done something so horrible. It was as though she simply couldn't feel badly enough to satisfy her conviction that she deserved to feel _worse._

He took a few seconds to collect his thoughts, hoping that the tightness in his chest would fade so that he could think and speak properly. It was so hard to watch her do this to herself – insist on carrying the weight of the world on _her_ shoulders, and hers alone. She'd done it for as long as he'd known her, but now she seemed to be beating herself up at the same time, and that needed to stop.

"This is _not_ your fault, Jane," he told her, his voice no longer sounding hurt, but emphatic. Turning his body to sit facing her, he slowly reached up and put his left hand on the middle of her back, then laid his right hand just below her left knee, so that his hands rested on her gently. In this way, his arms reached partway around her, but he wasn't holding on tight. Just then she seemed like she needed a little space, but that was all he was willing to give her. When she just scoffed and shook her head, he continued talking.

"No, listen to me. _You_ did not train yourself to be a child soldier. _You_ did not brainwash yourself into believing that the best way to right the wrongs of the world was through violence, no matter what the cost. _You_ did not do any of that to yourself, no matter what she made you believe. That was the orphanage, and then Shepherd. If you want to blame someone, blame them."

" _I'm_ the one who left, no one else," she said, shaking her head emphatically, already feeling the first tears rolling down her cheeks. "I may not have done those other things to myself, but thanks to her, _I_ did the rest of it. _Me_. Because apparently I'm too broken to let myself be happy, or…" She shook her head, finding it harder and harder to breathe. "I don't even know anymore," she whispered as she was overcome once again by emotion.

As she had several times already since he'd arrived the night before, she honestly expected him to ask her why she'd left. It would have been a logical question, because he still really didn't know, and he _deserved_ to know. He might have a guess, but she knew that her note hadn't been clear, and that no one else would have known, either, to be able to tell him. No, she hadn't told anyone what she'd remembered. It scared her too much to think about it, much less to say it out loud.

But he didn't ask her, simply began moving his left hand across her back, side to side. He wanted to say something, but he simply didn't know what to say, and he was focusing all his energy on ignoring the ache in his chest that was there once again. It was all he could do not to ask her why she'd left. He _knew_ there was a damned good reason, because he knew Jane, but at the same time, he couldn't pretend that it didn't still sting. A _lot_.

 _But you found her,_ he reminded himself, _and it's going to be okay. She's going to tell you when she's ready._

Taking a deep breath, she told herself that it was time. "I… I left because…" She paused, but told herself to keep going, focusing on the sensation of warmth given off by his hands, which were on her back and her leg. From the very first day, his touch had been a steadying factor for her, something from which she had always drawn strength, and she certainly needed that strength now. She only hoped that he wouldn't recoil after she told him… but it was a chance she was just going to have to take.

"…I remembered," she told him quietly, still staring out at the landscape in the distance. She heard his sharp intake of breath, and she knew that he knew what she was saying.

"You… remembered?" he asked in surprise, trying to process what she'd just told him. "You mean…?" He was afraid to say the words. After all that time that she'd desperately wanted to remember, and now she did.

Nodding, her breath caught in her chest, and then came the familiar feeling of losing control as her face began to crumple yet again. Still, she was determined to force these words out. "Just when I couldn't have been happier being Jane… I'm… I'm Remi again." Then, sarcastically, she added, "Just what I always wanted – _to remember_ … right?" The tears were falling faster down her cheeks now, and watching her like this broke his heart.

His hand stopped moving on her back, and he used both arms to pull her closer. " _Hey_ , listen to me, Jane," he said sternly, making sure to use her name and staring hard at her until she reluctantly looked at him.

When she looked up, afraid of what she was going to see, there was an intensity she didn't ever remember seeing in his eyes before.

"I don't care _what_ you remembered. You are _not_ Remi," he told her firmly. There was nothing in the world that was going to convince him that she was, and _she_ needed to understand that she wasn't, too. Of course, just telling her she wasn't Remi wasn't going to be enough, he knew, but his brain was still trying to play catch up, and to figure out what he could say to convince her. He hadn't been able to stop her face from dissolving into tears, and he already felt like he'd failed her.

She'd slid her feet out farther from her, leaning forward over her knees and reaching her arms around underneath her legs to hug them to her, and creating a space under her knees. In order to move even closer to her, which was imperative to him just then, he took advantage of that space, moving back so that he could slide his right leg under her knees, then moving his left leg behind her. Now using both arms, he tugged her toward him until her head was against his chest. Really, he'd thought that she might have fought him, but it was quite the opposite. As soon as he pulled her gently toward him, she seemed to fall in his direction, as if she'd only been waiting for an excuse.

"Hey… hey… come here…" he said soothingly, his arms winding around her tightly and his right hand smoothing her hair. "You can't do this to yourself, okay? I don't care _what_ you remembered. _You are not Remi_. Do you hear me?" He was speaking urgently, knowing that she had had a very long time to internalize this belief, and that convincing her otherwise was going to be difficult. He understood now, or he thought he did, why she'd left.

She began shaking her head, but he stopped her before she went through the trouble of finding the words to argue with him. "Do you want to know how I _know_ you're not Remi? That's easy," he told her confidently. "Because Remi may or may not have killed me by now, but she most certainly wouldn't have felt any remorse about what was happening to her. If anything, it would have made her happy… or just angrier, maybe… but she would never have shed a single tear. Not for or me or anyone else."

Choking back tears, she tried to pull back from him, but found that she couldn't, because he held on tightly. "But _I remember it_ ," she said insistently. _"All_ of it. I remember how it _felt_. And what happens if I… if what happened to Roman… happens to me… If I…"

Again, Kurt's heart ached for this woman who had lost so much, who had been through more than any person should go through in three or more lifetimes, much less one. "I told you two years ago, and I've said it since then, _you are not your brother_ ," he told her. "Your situation was _very_ different. He barely had a chance to be a new Roman before he remembered again. He hadn't figured out who the new Roman _was_ , and the old memories were just too strong. But you…"

He paused and looked at her as best he could from his angle, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. "You are Jane, and you _know_ who you are. You've known for years already. I don't care _what_ you remember, it can't just wipe away the past three years… almost four, I think…" He paused, wondering how he could possibly have _not_ known her all his life. He remembered those many long, painful years before he met her, but it almost felt like they were someone else's memories. This made him wonder if that was sort of how she was feeling, except that those "someone else's memories" that she had were much more frightening.

She didn't reply, but she seemed to be calming down, her breathing seeming to slow back to normal. "I can't imagine having those other memories in your head…" he whispered. "I wish I could take them for you."

"It's like having a split personality," she replied weakly. "I don't hear her voice in my head, thank goodness, but I remember things… _horrible things_ … and they make me afraid of myself. What I might do if that part of me… of her… were to take over. I just…" She sighed heavily, her voice shaking a little as she continued. "I couldn't risk that I was going to become her again, that something could happen to you, because of me…"

He tightened his arms around her, smiling sadly and taken aback. He loved her so much, it physically hurt. "You're just proving to me how very much you are _not_ Remi, you know," he said, speaking into her ear, his forehead leaned against the side of her head. "If anything, you're the opposite of Remi, no matter _what_ you remember. Remi, from everything I can tell, never really understood the concept of love. And it wasn't her fault. It seems like it was conditioned out of her. Shepherd taught her that it was just another way to manipulate people." He paused to let him words sink in.

"Now, you, on the other hand… Here you are, on a mountain that's like a week's journey from home, if not more… living with monks. And why? Because you wanted to protect me from something that _you_ _weren't even sure that I needed to be protected from_. Why do you suppose that is?" he asked her, loosening his right arm around her and withdrawing it slowly so that he could find her right hand, which was clenched on top of her left knee, and covered it with his own. Slowly, he felt her grip loosening so that gradually, he could thread his fingers through hers on the back of her hand.

She wasn't sure whether or not it was a rhetorical question, but she decided to answer anyway. "Because…" she began unsteadily, realizing only mid-way through her sentence what he was doing, but deciding to finish. If nothing else, she needed to tell him. After everything she'd put him through, he certainly deserved to be reminded. "…because I love you."

He leaned to his right and turned so that his face was close in front of hers, looking into her eyes, his smile more than a little bit triumphant despite the anguish of everything else that lay just beneath the surface. Deep down, he couldn't help but feel relieved, even though ever since the previous night, his doubts had all but evaporated. "So from that simple fact alone, how could you ever think that you could be anything like her? She didn't know how to love. You, on the other hand, don't know how to stop yourself. It's part of who you are."

With a great deal of effort, she smiled just a tiny, exhausted smile, but it was enough for him. Shaking her head slowly, she leaned back down against his chest, drained from the effort of the conversation. "I just don't know anymore," she said, her tears suddenly starting again.

"That's okay," he told her soothingly. Kissing the top of her head, he leaned his left cheek against the top of her head and squeezing her right hand tightly, his left arm holding on around her back. "Let me tell you what _I_ know. I know that your name is Jane _Weller_ , and that you are my wife. I know that I'm the luckiest person in the world." She scoffed slightly, but he shook his head. "No interrupting, please," he told her sternly, and continued. He saw a hint of a smile on her face, and she nodded slightly.

"I know that _I_ am not afraid of you, and you shouldn't be either. And I know that you are one of the most caring, empathetic people in the entire world, not _despite_ who you are, but _because_ of it. I know that every time I think it's not possible to love you more, you do something that makes me do just that. Although I have to say," he said, the seriousness melting away as his tone became playful. "This time seems like it might be impossible to top."

She breathed unevenly, unable to fight the smile that was working its way slowly onto her face. This wasn't a second chance. Being Jane had been a second chance the _first_ time. After the CIA, she'd gotten a third chance. This was at least a fourth chance, if not more.

"Promise me one thing, though?" he asked, and she heard the hesitation in his voice.

"I promise never again to leave you a note and run away to the ends of the Earth to hide from you for your own protection and live with monks," she said, managing to do so with a straight face only because she was too tired just then for a hint of humor.

He smiled at her joke, however, nuzzling his face in her hair and chuckling. "That's very reassuring, and it was a good guess, but that's not what I was going to say."

"Oh, okay, sorry," she mumbled. "Go ahead."

Shaking his head against hers, he continued. "Jane, I'm not asking you to be sorry. If anything, I want you to _stop_ being sorry. What I want you to promise me is that you'll talk to me… about whatever is going on in your head. I think we understand each other most of the time. Sometimes it's a little shocking how _well_ we understand each other. But I don't always know what you're thinking. Just… please don't shut me out." _Not again,_ he thought, but he didn't add that part. He knew she felt guilty enough as it was.

Under his cheek, she nodded. "Okay," she whispered. "I'm sorry." Just then, she felt like she was never going to stop feeling like she had to apologize to him.

"Okay I'll ignore the fact that _I just told you to stop apologizing_ for a second… If you're telling me you're sorry for loving me more than you love yourself – well I guess you should be, because you should love yourself _at least_ that much… but we can work on that," he chuckled, having jokingly pretended to misunderstand her apology.

After a pause, he kissed her temple and spoke softly. "Stop apologizing, alright? We're good. I'm not going to pretend that it didn't hurt when you left, but I understand. _I do_. Caring about other people _too much_ is just part of what makes you Jane. It always has been. I don't love you _despite_ that, I love you _because_ of it… well, that and _many_ other things, anyway."

She didn't reply, but he felt her lean into him with what felt like all her weight, as if she expected someone to come along and try to pry them apart. Her eyes were squeezed shut, tears once again leaking out, but this time even she couldn't tell whether they were tears of happiness or sadness. Maybe there were some of both. He let go of her hand slowly, wrapping his right arm around her again, holding on tighter with both arms. It hit him all over again, the enormity of it all, and he had to make a conscious effort not to be overcome with emotion himself.

It was at least five or ten minutes later before either of them spoke or moved, as if they needed to rest after such an outpouring of emotion. His arms were still tightly wound around her. The fact that he always seemed to know when to hold on and when to let go was just one of the things that she loved about _him_.

"We should go," she told him finally, her voice sounding more like herself, less frantic, though still reluctant.

"Are you sure?" he asked with concern.

"There are people counting on us," she reminded him. "Besides, as long as I have you…" She trailed off in the middle of her sentence, sitting up straighter and leaning back to look at him. Her face was puffy from so many tears and she looked exhausted, but at the same time, if it was possible to be both, she looked… _happy_.

"You are exactly right," he told her, leaning forward slowly to kiss her, savoring this kiss perhaps more than any other before it. Only after a long minute did they remember that they were still in the vicinity of the monks, even though there were no orange robes near them at the moment, and between that and the fact that it was time to start their journey, they leaned back and looked at each other, smiling a little shyly at each other.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Thank _you_ ," he replied, touching his forehead to hers for a few seconds, before sitting back and looking into her eyes again. "Ready?" he asked, now appreciating her smile more than ever because of how hard he'd just worked to put it there.

"Let's go," she replied. "We have somewhere to be."

"Yes we do," he agreed, loosening his grip on her only reluctantly, and only because he reminded himself that they couldn't make their way back home if he didn't let go of her. Really, he would have been perfectly happy to sit there with her that way indefinitely. But since that wasn't currently an option, he contented himself with thinking about the fact that he wouldn't have to sleep without her beside him again, that later that day they would curl up together somewhere, however far they managed to get.

That thought sustained him as he carefully pulled his left leg back around her, and his right leg out from underneath the tent made by her legs. Bracing himself against the ground with his hands, he stood up, then offered her a hand. She took it with a smile, allowing him to help her up. It was such a relief to be able to do that again. Hell, it was a relief to be able to _look at her_ again.

They both lifted their backpacks onto their backs, and somehow unsurprisingly, they each reached for the other's hand at almost the same instant. Smiling at each other, they set off to say goodbye to the monks and to retrieve the rest of Kurt's gear before they began the slow trek home. The first step would be to reach the nearest village, further down the mountain. It was tiny, and Kurt had stopped there on his way up, only a few days before. Luckily for him, it was hard for most people to forget Jane, and it had caused such a stir when she'd come through town that even though it was many months later, everyone had known exactly which woman he was referring to when he'd described her.

When the eldest of the monks saw the two westerners approaching, holding hands, he couldn't help but smile. From what he'd seen of the two of them, it wasn't a surprise. Though the woman, who he'd been surprised to learn spoke their language with great skill, had protested that she could never return to the home from which she'd come, it seemed that she had decided to do just that.

 _This is just as it should be_ , the old monk thought. The woman had been stubborn, adamant that she could not go home, but clearly the man's arrival had changed her mind.

"Come," he said, beckoning them in English to follow him as he walked slowly to where the rest of Kurt's things had been left the night before, in a small tent that appeared to be used for storage. The monks did not have much in the way of possessions, and it appeared that all of their excess supplies fit inside this small structure.

Beside Kurt's bag, there was a small pile of provisions – a few bottles of water, a small amount of food, among a few other things. "For your journey back home," the old monk said in his own language, gesturing to the supplies and leaving Kurt confused. Jane, however, nodded and smiled. She dropped Kurt's hand reluctantly, bringing her palms together in front of her face and bowing slightly in reply.

Jane and Kurt both knelt down, putting their backpacks onto the ground and opening them to fit the provisions from the pile that the monk had offered. Between the two bags that they had carried, and the larger one that Kurt had left with the monks, which had actually been designed more specifically for long distance hikes and therefore had a much larger capacity, they managed to store all of the provisions that were offered to them. Standing up again, they hoisted everything onto their backs, Kurt carrying the bag that contained the metal box in one hand for the time being, and all exited the tent.

Smiling despite the weight of their packs, they regarded the old monk. "Thank you," Jane told him in the local dialect, "for all of your kindness. For helping me find peace."

"It appears that the peace you sought was seeking _you_ all along," the monk told her with a slight smile.

Jane felt herself blush at the old man's observation. "It would seem so," she replied.

She bowed again, and the old monk did the same. Kurt, unsure exactly what was being said, but understanding the politeness of the gesture, followed Jane's lead.

"Thank you," he told the old man sincerely. The monk smiled at him, bowing in his direction as well.

"Safe journey," the old man said in English. The two nodded, bowing once more, before turning to walk away in the direction of the road that led out of the monks' tiny settlement, toward the nearest village, which was at least a day's walk from there. They hadn't gone five steps before their hands were joined, once again finding each other in nearly the same instant, without them even having to glance in the other's direction.

As they rounded a bend and the beginning of the dirt path came into view, he felt her hand squeeze his, holding on tight. Turning to look at her with concern, he couldn't help but worry. It would probably be a long time before he _didn't_ worry about every little thing when it came to Jane, but that was okay. The fact that she was there, that he had the opportunity to worry about her here, where he could see her in front of him, rather than having to wonder abstractly whether she was even alive, was a miracle.

"Everything okay?" he asked, stopping in place and looking at her worriedly.

She smiled weakly at his concern, nodding her head. He could see the smile in her eyes, at least, and it was brighter than ever. He couldn't help but smile back at her.

"I'm still scared, but… not in the same way," she told him. "It's hard to explain." Feeling him squeeze her hand tighter, then relax his hold, she held eye contact with him.

"That's okay," he assured her. "We'll get there."

"Yeah," she whispered, glancing at the path they were about to take.

"Ready?" he asked her.

"Ready," she replied eagerly, her smile spreading across her face as she looked at him. With that, they looked ahead and began walking again.

They both knew that it wasn't going to be an easy trip, and that they wouldn't be lucky enough to have enough space to walk side by side the whole way… but then, it was almost like a metaphor for the journey that they'd already been on for years, the one that had started back on the day when the FBI had found Jane in Times Square – maybe even long before that. Things had never been easy for them before, and yet here they were, happier than ever, always stronger together than apart. That had to mean something.

No, they didn't need easy. What they needed was each other – the rest would fall into place somehow, the way it always did. Now that they understood this, this particular part of their journey didn't feel so daunting.

"Oh, one more thing," Kurt said, pulling her to a quick stop, to her surprise. He was grinning at her, and she couldn't help but do the same. The look on his face was infectious.

"What?" she asked curiously.

"This," he said, leaning down to kiss her, slightly less innocently than the previous time. "I've missed being able to do that whenever I felt like it."

"Me, too," she whispered against his lips, the familiar buzzing sensation that she got from kissing him, from an overdose of happiness, filling her head. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to be so happy, and that just made it even better. "But let's not get too distracted. We have places to be. I promise lots more of that later, though."

He leaned back slowly, raising his eyebrows at her. "I'm going to hold you to that, _Mrs. Weller_." It wasn't lost on her that he'd emphasized the _Mrs. Weller_ , and she smiled even harder.

"I expect nothing less from you," she told him, grinning happily. "Now let's get going."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a grin, squeezing her hand again and reluctantly tearing his eyes away from her to look at the path ahead of them. Their future had never been certain, but his love for her… well, he was as certain of _that_ as he was of her love for him.

That was enough.


	3. No Matter How Much It Rains

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

For a few minutes, the path was wide enough for them to walk side by side, hand in hand. They'd enjoyed those minutes even more because they'd known that it wouldn't last. After all, both of them had walked _up_ this way, so they knew that the path would narrow quickly. When it did, they slowed to a stop just for a minute, turning to each other without a word and leaning their faces together for a short but sweet kiss. Pulling back, they smiled shyly at each other, and at the fact that they hadn't needed to put into words that that was what they both needed just them. They'd been married less than a year, and hadn't seen each other in almost six months, and yet… they still seemed to be in perfect sync. It wasn't surprising, really, since they'd understood each other that way almost since the first day they'd met.

"You go first," he told her, holding his arm out. She frowned and bit her lip, clearly not liking the idea. "You wouldn't see me over my giant backpack anyway," he added. _Besides, I need to be able to see you, to know that you're there and safe and that you didn't vanish into thin air_ , he added in his head.

Jane knew that there was more to his insistence that she go first than just his extra-large back pack. Indeed, even after all this time, she swore she could read his thoughts just then. Not that it was especially hard to figure out that he wanted to keep his eyes on her. Of course, she didn't want to look away from him either, if she couldn't have contact with him, so she knew the feeling… But she couldn't help but feel like he had more of a right to that feeling than she did. After all, _she_ was the one who'd disappeared into thin air. Run away. If anyone had the right to be paranoid, it was him.

 _It's not about having a right to certain feelings,_ the voice in her head whispered. _You feel how you feel. There are no rights… or wrongs._

Wondering if he noticed the sharp intake of breath she felt herself take as she looked into the distance for a second while she got momentarily lost in her thoughts, she looked up at him slowly. As happy as she was that he was here, that they were going home together, it was going to take a while for either of them to be okay. In some ways it made her think of the beginning, when she'd first come out of the bag.

 _You got through that, and you'll get through this,_ the voice in her head told her. _Just focus on him._

The expression in his eyes was much like the one that had been there when he'd first arrived in her tent, when they'd stood back to look at each other. There was so much love there, even more now than before, but there was also hurt. She took slow, deliberate breaths. _Yes, you hurt him_ , she reminded herself. _It doesn't make you a bad person. It makes you human. He's not angry about it, but it won't heal right away. And that's okay. Just do your best._

Smiling sadly at him, she nodded and looked down as she slowly stepped onto the path in front of him. As she did, she felt his hand gently brush against her waist, falling again as she reached the center of the path. They couldn't walk close enough together for that contact to be sustained, as much as she wished for it.

 _Patience_ , she told herself. _He is your future once again, not just your past._ That thought almost felt too decadent to be true after she'd spent the past many months trying to desensitize herself to the idea that she wouldn't ever see him again. It had hurt like nothing the CIA could _ever_ have done to her.

The terrain was rocky here, and it required them to pay close attention to the ground beneath their feet so that they didn't trip. Jane was glad for this distraction from her thoughts, especially since she had to walk in front of Kurt. Otherwise she might have been tempted to look back at him enough that it would have slowed their progress. She just reminded herself that this narrow part of the path wouldn't last forever, it was just something they needed to get past. It seemed like an appropriate metaphor, given their circumstances.

Meanwhile, Kurt walked behind her, staring at the back of her head as his thoughts raced on and on. His emotions were a tangled mess, after the last six months of fear, desperation, hurt, loneliness, frustration, determination, even anger… and through all of them, a love so intense that nothing could wipe it away. All of these emotions were still present in his mind, and in addition there was now relief, understanding and sympathy in the mix, as well. His mind and his heart were overloaded, and it was hard to know how to feel or what to think.

Of course, these feelings didn't wait patiently in line to appear one at a time. On the contrary, they surged through him in twos, threes or more, sometimes all of them at once, catching him off guard. He had to consciously stop his mind from racing, forcing himself to stop and focus on the fact that she was there, and she was real, not some figment of his imagination or a dream that he was having. He'd dreamed about their reunion so many times, but this reality was so much sweeter because it was _real_.

 _It's going to be okay now,_ he reminded himself as he watched the back of her head in front of him. Just then, she turned to glance quickly over her shoulder at him, and her smile was dazzling. He hated that he had to walk along behind her, that he couldn't simply sit and stare at her. In a few seconds, she had turned back around, but the feeling of giddiness that had washed over him when she'd smiled at him continued to make him smile long after she was facing forwards again. More than anything just then, he wanted to hold onto her.

 _There will be time for that,_ he reminded himself. _In order to get home, you have to first get off this mountain. In order to do_ _ **that**_ _, you need to walk behind her._

They'd been walking for about an hour when she noticed the darkening clouds rolling in. What had been a mostly sunny day was suddenly overcast, with ominously colored clouds moving in their direction. She had only seen a few really bad storms since she'd been there, and she hoped that she wasn't about to see another one. They didn't exactly have anywhere to go, and there was nowhere nearby to take shelter. Looking around at the rocky terrain, there didn't appear to be any options, only the occasional large rocks and a few boulders.

He saw her glance at the sky, and then at their surroundings, and he knew that they were having the same thoughts. The darkening sky was something he had been watching for the last few minutes as well. "Looks like we may be about to get wet," he told her. Jane glanced over her shoulder at him and grimaced, nodding.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Better now than at night, I guess."

This was a good point, of course. It was significantly warmer here during the day than it would be when the sun went down, even though the rain would cool things off now as well. Also, since they had no shelter at the moment, trying to sleep in the rain would be far less pleasant.

"True," he agreed. "But still not ideal. Especially if it's anything like the last rain storm I walked through to get _up_ the mountain."

Jane was pretty sure she knew which storm he was referring to, because there had been one not too long ago that had dropped a lot of water on the monks' settlement as well. It definitely wouldn't have been fun to have been out in it.

As if on cue, small droplets began to fall on them, lightly at first but quickly increasing in speed and size. At first they kept walking, but within a few minutes Kurt had reached out and put his hand on Jane's shoulder, tugging her to a stop. He set down his backpack and opened it, pulling out a compact umbrella, quickly closing his backpack again and hoisting it back onto his back, then climbing onto a large rock nearby that came up to about their waist height. He settled himself quickly and beckoned her towards him.

"Come on," he said, reaching out his hand to her to help her up. Once she was seated beside him, he put up the umbrella. They knew that they were still going to get wet, but since there was no other shelter nearby, this seemed like a "better than nothing" solution, and certainly preferable to getting completely drenched. Still, even sitting close beside each other, they didn't fit well under the small umbrella.

"We can do better than this," he told her. The rain was falling harder now, collecting in what looked like a small river along the path they'd been walking on a minute before. "Hold this." She took the handle of the umbrella from him, holding it above them, curious about what he was referring to when he said " _We can do better than this_." The next second, he'd scooped her up and sat her across his lap, where she folded her legs in to try to keep them under the umbrella. She was surprised but not unhappy to end up here, suddenly so close to him after the hour or so walking and feeling so far away from him. "That's better," he pronounced.

Looking up at him, she continued to hold the umbrella above them as his arms wrapped around her. She didn't mind at all being the one to hold the umbrella… not if it meant she got to sit here like this, with him holding onto her. No, she just might die of happiness, of relief, right here. Exhaling slowly, she leaned against him, her head fitting into the crook of his neck, feeling his head lean down on top of hers and his arms pull more tightly around her. They looked down at the water flowing between the rocks now, where they'd been walking, which looked as though it had always been a river.

"I guess it's better than we didn't try to keep walking through that… even though we don't really have time to spare," she said loudly, trying to be heard over the sound of the rain.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I guess Mother Nature knew that we needed a break."

"Did we? Already?" she asked.

"Maybe not because we're _tired_ yet," he replied, "But I think we still needed a break… needed _this_."As if to demonstrate what he meant, he squeezed his arms tighter still around her. Smiling and leaning harder against him, she breathed in slowly, trying to inhale the moment, the feeling, as well as simply the scent of him. It was as though every second now was a gift that she had never expected to be given, that she didn't feel like she deserved – though she knew that he would argue that she did.

"Kurt, I—" she started, leaning her head up to try to speak closer to her ear so that he could hear her better over the rain.

"Don't say you're sorry," he told her sternly. When she stopped talking then, he knew that he'd anticipated her words correctly. He kissed her forehead, and his voice softened as he continued. "I know you are, sweetheart. And _I'm_ sorry that you have to remember the terrible things that Remi did."

"That's not the same," she tried to protest.

Shaking his head, he replied calmly, "No, it's not. But it's not about being _even_. There's nothing that says that anything has to be the same. You're here, and I'm here, and it's going to be okay. We've been through worse, haven't we?" As if to emphasize his words, he kissed her forehead again, then turned his head so that he cheek rested there against her skin.

She thought back to everything that had already happened to them in the past few years. Sandstorm and everything that had come with it. "Yeah," she conceded. "But it's my fault that we're _here._ "

"You know, I'd never been to Tibet," he told her, as if it were merely an interesting fact. "It's really beautiful here. I have to say, I love my job, but there's really not a lot of international travel involved in FBI jobs… And who knows how long it's been since I had a real vacation…"

"You're telling me that sitting here on a boulder, on a mountain, with no shelter in our future for _days_ , in the pouring rain, is what you're going to call a vacation?" she asked incredulously.

"It's _really_ hard to get you alone for very long," he told her, as if he'd planned this trip for that very reason. "There always seems to be someone interrupting us. Now that I think about it, we may have gotten together long before we actually did if people would've just not interrupted us all the time. Seriously, just think about it…" He leaned back just enough to grin at her in amusement, his eyes sparkling as the rain continued to fall fast and furious around them. They were definitely still getting wet, but not as wet as they would have without that small umbrella. And because of their closeness, they weren't noticing at all.

Looking back at him in amazement, she just shook her head. Here they were, on a mountain half a world away from civilization, for which she was completely her fault… and yet he was pretending that he'd planned this trip on purpose.

"Don't say it," he told her seriously, looking directly into her eyes as he leaned his face closer to hers. _I know what you're thinking,_ his eyes told her loud and clear.

"Don't say what?" she asked, as if challenging him to know what she was thinking. Then again, it really _shouldn't_ surprise her if he did. He had _always_ seemed to know.

"Don't say you don't deserve this," he whispered just loudly enough to be heard over the rain, looking into her eyes confidently. He registered the look of surprise as she realized that he really _had_ known what she'd wanted to say.

"I wasn't going to say that," she told him.

"But you _were_ thinking it," he pronounced confidently.

Smiling shyly, she glanced down, and then back up at him. "Maybe," she allowed. "But all things considered, it's a lot easier to believe that what I deserve is the bad things that have happened."

Shaking his head, his expression clouded over. "Not for a second," he told her, and she could hear anguish in his voice. "You never deserved any of that." He kissed the bridge of her nose, and then leaned his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and inhaling slowly before lifting his head and looking back down at her, his smile returning.

"One of these days you'll start believing me when I tell you that you deserve only the good parts, and even more of them," he told her, determination written all over his face.

"Oh yeah?" she asked. "You think so? That I'll _believe_ it?"

"Oh, I know so," he replied. "Because I'm not going to stop saying it until you do. You'll give in out of sheer annoyance so that I'll stop."

Raising her eyebrows at him, she couldn't help but smile. "Oh, really?" she asked. "Are you sure? I'm pretty stubborn."

"And I love that about you," he told her with a wink. "But so am I."

"You love that I'm stubborn?" she repeated questioningly. "I thought that made me a pain in the ass."

Failing to suppress a grin, he nodded slowly. "Oh, it does," he assured her as seriously as he could. "But I love _that_ about you, too." When she looked at him as though he was crazy, he chuckled. Now it was his turn to shake his head at her. "Don't you get it, Jane? I love _everything_ about you."

Suddenly she got goosebumps all over, all at once, and she felt her whole body tingling slightly. She simply didn't know what to say, so she just stared up at him, in awe.

"Jane Doe is speechless?" he asked after watching her for a few seconds, grinning. Shaking her head because she couldn't think of a response, instead she leaned forward to kiss him. She was so distracted, all of a sudden, that she almost dropped the umbrella that she was still holding over them. As soon as she felt the first drops of the heavy rain pelting them, however, she snapped it back up in place. As she did, one of his hands reached for it as well, covering hers around the thin handle. They both laughed, all the while never letting their mouths lose contact with each other as they simply continued kissing.

"I'm not speechless," she told him a minute later, as she leaned back just far enough to catch her breath. "I _do_ have something to say." They were still less than an inch apart, close enough for him to bump the tip of his nose against hers, then to run it down the side of her nose and over her right cheekbone. For a second, she closed her eyes at the sensation. It was all she could do to concentrate on how it felt, and visual stimuli was simply too much to process simultaneously.

"Oh yeah?" he asked as he watched her, continuing to move the tip of his nose softly back and forth across her cheek, amused by her reaction, "What's that?"

Her stomach was flip flopping like crazy, and as much as she wanted to both open her eyes and look at his as well as go right back to _kissing_ him, she found that she couldn't do either just then. She couldn't move at all, in fact. When he finally paused, appearing to understand that she couldn't respond unless he stopped what he was doing, he kissed the spot on her cheek where his nose had stopped and then leaned back just far enough to break contact. Her eyes slowly opened, and they were filled with more than a little awe.

"What I wanted to tell you," she began slowly, her smile growing with each word, "was that I just discovered that I like kissing you in the rain. Not that it's a surprise, of course…" Now she was grinning at him, biting her bottom lip as she waited for his reaction.

"Well, as long as we're stuck here waiting for the rain to stop…" he grinned back at her, letting the tip of his nose touch hers once more and then leaning in to kiss her again.

"I like the way you think," she whispered, already kissing him as she spoke, her smile feeling like it was going to crack her face wide open. She didn't know how it was possible, but she swore than his lips felt softer every time he kissed her. For a second she considered giving up on the umbrella. Did it really matter if they got soaked? Wouldn't it be worth it?

 _It will matter if you end up freezing with no way to get warm,_ the voice in her head reminded her. _Be smart. He's not going anywhere without you. There's plenty of time for that._ And so she convinced herself to be content with kissing him under the umbrella and not attempting to go any further.

Kurt's emotions were in overload. The hurt that he'd carried with him for the past six months wasn't gone, but the sting of the open emotional wound was already beginning to heal. He had known all along that she must have had a good reason to leave, and he now knew that she _had_. As much as that didn't just make the pain that he'd felt disappear, knowing the truth about Jane's actions helped transform his personal heartache into an ache that he felt not only on his own behalf, but on hers as well – after all, he wasn't the only one who'd been hurting. She had thought that she was making the sacrifice that she had to in order to save his life, as misguided as it had been. He wished that she had talked to him instead, but he couldn't be angry with her… not when all she'd wanted to do was to protect him. It was all very complicated.

Yes, the fear that he would look away for a second and then look back to find her gone was fading, albeit slowly. It would probably remain at the back of his mind, despite what logic told him to believe, for a long time. When he felt it tugging at him, however, all he had to do was to look into her eyes to calm himself down again. It would be okay. As many times as he'd told _her_ that over the years that he'd known her, he'd needed to hear it just as much, he realized now. He'd been more accustomed to his own baggage, having lived with it so much longer, but in a way, they had more in common than he'd let himself realize. Both of them had a gaping hole in their life than only the other person could fill. This fact had come as a very slow realization, but once he saw it, he couldn't understand how he'd missed it for so long.

When they eventually stopped kissing and leaned back, both of them with one hand still around the handle of the umbrella, he released his free hand from around her to bring it to her cheek, moving his thumb back and forth slowly. Looking deep into her eyes, he saw an expression that matched the way he felt just then. _Uncertainly. Love. Fear. Joy. Pain. Hope. Relief._ All of these, and more.

For a few seconds, he forgot about everything happening around them. He didn't hear the rain, didn't feel the sensation of the water running off the boulder around them or the unevenness of the hard surface on which they were sitting. For a second, there was only the two of them. It wasn't the first such moment he'd had since he'd found her, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. He liked this sensation… that the rest of the world just melted away and left only the two of them.

He was staring at her so intently, as if he was trying to look all the way into her soul, to find answers to questions he didn't even know he had, and she couldn't look away. On the contrary, she didn't want to look away. There was a feeling of warmth that spread through her when he held her attention this way that was unlike anything else she could remember. What was that silly expression she'd heard somewhere? _When it's right, you just know?_ Of course, she'd known for a very long time that with Kurt, it was just _right_ , but after everything, it was a relief to feel it again, and to know that he was feeling it, too. Because that much was clear just from looking at him.

As much as she didn't want to look away, when she suddenly noticed that she no longer heard the rain beating down on them, she couldn't help but glance slightly to the side of him, over his shoulder, to see that indeed, the rain had stopped. Looking down at the rocky ground, she saw that the torrent of water that had flowed down the path the last time she had looked was now a trickle. It was almost time to start moving again.

"We should get going," she heard him say, just as she was thinking it. Looking up, she saw him looking down at the path as well, and at the same time, they lowered the umbrella. His hand was on the outside of hers, and he released it reluctantly so that she could pull the umbrella back down, since it was no longer necessary.

"Yeah," she agreed, pulling the strap around the umbrella and securing the Velcro, then handing it back to him to store. He ran a clip on the far side of his backpack through the loop that hung off the handle of the umbrella, allowing it to hang on the outside to dry for the time being, and then looked back at her with a smile.

"We should be almost to the part where the path widens out again," he told her, and she nodded in agreement. Taking her hand, he squeezed it gently, then lifted it to his lips to kiss the back of it. As he did, she felt electricity radiate out from that spot on her hand, spreading through her veins quickly. "Alright, Mrs. Weller?"

She looked down at her ring for a second, gleaming despite the lack of direct sunlight, still held securely in her husband's hand.

 _Her husband_.

Taking a few slow breaths and trying to remind herself that yes, this was _real_ , she looked back up at him. "Ready," she replied. Suddenly, one of his arms wrapped securely around her waist and she felt them jumping off of the boulder on which they sat, with Kurt holding onto her tightly. She had put her arms around him as well in response, feeling as though she was falling, but they landed without incident. The drop had been very short, and his arm slowly loosened around her as hers reluctantly did the same. They couldn't walk that way, after all, as much as they wanted to.

 _Not much farther,_ she told herself. The journey, of course, was still _very_ long, but it wouldn't matter quite as much when she didn't have to walk along in front of him, where she couldn't either look at or maintain contact with him. That was the thing that was killing her about the journey so far. She wanted nothing more than to be able to see him, and to touch him. To convince herself that he was real. That _all of this_ was real.

Reluctantly, they let go of each other's hands and Jane stepped out in front, glancing back at him over her shoulder with a smile. He wanted to kiss her again just then, but he settled for smiling back at her, feeling as though the sun itself was smiling at him. "Let's go," he coaxed her. "The sooner we leave, the sooner we get there." _There_ could have been anywhere, at that point. They had quite a few milestones to reach on their way home. The village at the bottom of the mountain was only the first big one.

They started walking once again, carefully making their way down the rocky path in single file. As she had before, every now and then Jane looked back over her shoulder at him, reassuring herself that he was there. Every time she did, she found him watching her intently, smiling at her with just a hint of a question. _Everything okay?_ his eyes asked her. The smile she gave him in reply answered just as wordlessly. _Everything's okay_ , her eyes told him.

Another hour and a half or so later, they came to the place where the path widened, the rocks become smaller and easier to walk on, with less chance of tripping. Here, the ground could be more aptly described as gravel than rock.

Without a word, Kurt stepped out from behind Jane at the first chance he got, grabbing her hand as he now walked beside her. "That's better," he said in a low voice, and she couldn't help but smile as she looked at their hands, now joined once again. Nodding, she felt momentarily overwhelmed with happiness just from such an innocent gesture. It was hard to believe that something so simple could make her so happy. Even as she worried about the fate of their friends, who had apparently been kidnapped somehow because of _her_ , she felt the burden of it all lessen slightly just from having him there, tangibly beside her. They would figure it out, and they would save the others. _Together_. The two of them had always been an unstoppable team.

Now that she could look at him more easily, she did it frequently. Though the ground was easier to navigate here, it was still not flat, and on one of the times that she glanced up at him, her left foot happened to come in contact with a small rock at just the wrong angle. She felt herself losing her balance, tripping not very gracefully as she suddenly saw the ground getting much closer. Then, just as quickly, she felt him swing around in front of her, the hand that he was holding tightening as he caught her around the waist with his other hand. Suddenly, he was standing in front of her, holding her up, and she was no longer falling.

"You okay?" he asked, his arms still around her as he looked down into her face. Her fall had caught both of them by surprise, but he was glad that his reflexes had been quick enough to catch her.

"Yeah, thanks," she smiled, slightly embarrassed.

"You need to keep your eyes on the road," he admonished her with a grin, as if she'd been driving.

"Sorry, I can't help it," she replied with a shrug, grinning back. Then, blushing slightly, she added, "I just need to keep looking… to make sure you're still real."

He pulled her in for a tight but quick hug. "This is all real," he promised her. He remembered her telling him when they'd first gotten together about the dreams that she used to have, back when things had been so rocky between them, after the CIA. About how they were so breathtakingly real that waking up from them had been agonizing every time. "I promise."

Not that he couldn't have told her that same thing in a dream, but she chose to believe that what her mind was telling her was the truth. That it _was_ real. She felt him slowly release her, and she reluctantly did the same. Their joined hands remained joined, however, and he squeezed hers gently.

"Are you hungry?" he asked her. They'd grabbed a bit of something that had counted as breakfast at some point early that morning just before they'd left, but the day was wearing on.

"No, not right now," she told him. She didn't want to mention that she hadn't been eating a lot lately, reverting back to old bad habits since she'd left. After all, she hadn't been especially worried about her wellbeing. It was hard to be, when she was denying herself the one thing – the one _person_ that she wanted, and doing so permanently… Her health hadn't really been a primary concern, but she didn't dare tell him that.

"Okay, but we're not waiting too much longer before we have something," he told her sternly. "In the meantime, here." He handed her a water bottle he'd taken out of the side pocket of his larger backpack. "Have some." She nodded, taking the water bottle, and reluctantly released his hand so that she could open it and take a drink. Not a long drink, since their supplies were supposed to last them the three days that it should take them to get down the mountain, but more than a sip, at which she knew that he would protest that she needed to drink more. Handing the bottle back to him, she watched him take a drink as well, replacing the bottle in the side pocket of his backpack.

Then, as if they had planned it, their hands reached for each other again at the same instant, and they turned to start walking, both smiling at the ease with which they'd just reconnected. Things between them might not be _simple_ , but there was no denying that it felt _right_.

 _How did I ever voluntarily give this up?_ she wondered.

 _Because you thought that you had no choice,_ the voice in her head replied, even though the thought had been mostly rhetorical.

 _Well, remind me to never even consider doing that again,_ _ **no matter what**_ _,_ she told the voice.

 _Will do,_ it replied, and she had to grin at herself. There was no denying that this was a strange conversation.

Meanwhile, Kurt was lost in his own thoughts as well, though they were less specific. Really, if he had his way, he would simply never let go of her, which was pretty much what he was thinking.

When he glanced at her, she was smiling, and really he didn't need much more than that. In the next moment when she looked up and caught him looking at her, however, there was something in her eyes besides happiness. If he was not mistaken, there was regret as well. He knew that he'd already told her multiple times not to be sorry, that he understood, but he also knew that just as he still felt the sting of her leaving, even though he wasn't angry, she would still feel guilty. It would take time for the leftover feelings to abate, no matter that things had turned out okay. It was perfectly normal, he told himself, and yet… he wished he could do something to change it. He hated to see her making herself unhappy.

What he _could_ do was squeeze her hand, brighten his smile at her and hope that his eyes were imparting his message, as they so often did. After all, the two of them had proven to be rather good at communicating without saying a word.

Looking back at him, she smiled. There was no mistaking that he had read her thoughts in her eyes, nor was there any doubt what he was trying to say. She didn't know how they could talk to each other that way, only that they did it often.

 _I'm trying_ , her eyes replied, which was the honest truth.

No, getting themselves to civilization, back home, was only going to be a part of the way back for them. The rest was going to take longer, but it would be worth it. Once again, she allowed herself to bask in the feeling of her gratitude that things had turned out the way they had. Deserved or not, she was luckier than she'd ever thought possible. The lessons along the way had been painful, but she liked to think that she had finally internalized them. The biggest one had perhaps been the simplest – that Kurt was simply not going to allow her to give up, not on herself and not on them – not for any reason, even one that she had found completely valid.

A shadow passed overhead and Jane was distracted enough from looking at Kurt to look up for its source. Clouds almost the color of charcoal were quickly rolling in overhead, pushing aside the puffy white ones that had dotted the sky and giving everything an ominous look to it once again. She was tempted to wonder how she hadn't noticed the clouds sooner, but she knew the answer – she'd just been distracted by looking at Kurt.

"Wow," she declared simply, making Kurt look up as well. He was just as surprised as she was to see the newest round of dark clouds.

"Looks like we're going to get rain _again_ ," he said, looking around quickly. This time, there wasn't anything for them to climb onto to escape the water. There was, however, a rocky ledge that they'd been walking beside for a while. It rose up beside them, and would give them protection on one side, at least. It was better than nothing.

"When the rain starts, we can lean up against the rocks with the umbrella," he suggested. "It's not much, but it's something…"

"It could be worse," she replied with a smile. "We could be in an open field. Or…" she glanced away for a second, then back into his eyes. "…Not here at all." Indeed, if he hadn't found her, they could be somewhere safe from the storm, or nowhere near the storm to start with… but not together. The thought made her shiver.

He held her gaze for several seconds, trying to let her know that he had gotten her meaning. "I'd rather be here," he said finally, seriously. "No matter how much it rains."

"Me, too," she smiled back at him, then added, "So let's keep walking until we don't have a choice." He nodded in agreement.

They picked up their pace slightly, knowing that they were about to once again lose time on their journey due to a rain delay, and wanting to at least get as far as they could before that happened. Reaching the bottom of the mountain in the allotted three days was already looking a little iffy with two storms in the first day, but it was smarter to stop and wait for the weather to clear than to try and walk through it.

It was only a few minutes before they felt rain begin to fall on them, and within seconds it was coming down hard and fast. They came to a stop, and Jane unclipped the umbrella from the back of Kurt's large backpack, putting it up over their heads and moving toward the rocky wall. She quickly found that his intention was for her to lean her back against the wall, and for him to press himself against her so that they were as close together as possible. His head was leaned down towards hers so that the angle of the umbrella could be somewhat even, and she tilted her face up towards his automatically, looking into his eyes.

"I'm beginning to like rainstorms," she told him, watching a grin spread across his face.

"Me, too," he replied mischievously. "It's like the weather I didn't even know I wanted."

Her smile widened, too, then, as he ever so slowly leaned his face further down towards hers. "Oh, yeah?" she asked, "Why is that?"

"Well," he said thoughtfully, pretending to give it careful consideration, "Mostly because it gives me an excuse to do this." Once again, Jane held the umbrella over the two of them, this time from behind him since her arms were around his sides, and Kurt leaned down to kiss her. His forearms were pressed carefully against the rocks behind her on either side of her shoulders, creating a little space that made her feel almost like, between that and the umbrella above them, they had their own cocoon to separate them from the outside world. In this cocoon, there was only the two of them.

"Is your back getting wet?" he asked, assuming so since the umbrella was slanted down slightly in her direction, and the water had nowhere else to go but down the face of the rock behind her.

"Yeah, but it's alright," she assured him. "I'm in better shape than I would be without an umbrella… or without _you_. I can handle a little water."

He nodded, kissing the tip of her nose simply because their faces were so close together. "Yeah, my legs are pretty wet, too, from the rain blowing against them," he agreed. "But like you said, it could certainly be a lot worse."

"A _lot_ worse," she echoed, pulling herself up straighter to attempt to kiss him again, but falling just short of his face.

Looking down at her in amusement, he held still for a few seconds. "May I help you?" he asked, pretending that he didn't know what she was trying to do.

"Very funny," she replied with a growl. "You know the answer to that."

"Do I?" he asked, feigning innocence, his eyes growing wide in mock surprise.

"Dammit, Weller," she growled impatiently, knowing exactly how much he was enjoying her reaction. She didn't even need to see the grin that had taken over his entire face, although she could.

Chuckling, he couldn't help but move only the smallest bit closer, still just out of her reach, just to tease her. When her eyes narrowed at him, he laughed softly. "I love you," he told her, before finally lowering his head far enough that their lips met.

"No talking," she told him without moving away, which only made him laugh again. Carefully, so as not to press a sharp edge of a rock into his skin, he shifted his right arm slightly, towards her face, so that he could rest the backs of his fingers gently against her left cheek, not breaking contact with her lips.

As it always did, air became necessary for both of them, and since her head was already leaned against the rocky wall and there was therefore no space for her to lean back, he was the one who moved away slightly. As soon as he was more than a nose's distance from her, however, he felt too far away. After a split second glance to check that yes, the rain was still coming down in buckets, she leaned forward ever so slightly, just far enough that their noses pressed against each other. Her eyes closed them, and she sighed contentedly.

"I love you, too," she whispered over the sound of the rain.

"I like how that was your second response, after _'No talking,'"_ he chuckled, thoroughly amused.

With a shrug, she tilted her head slightly to one side, grinned and replied, "Sorry… I just needed to kiss you."

He shook his head at her, his smile not dimming. "That's just one more thing that you do _not_ ever need to be sorry for, okay?" he asked her lightly.

This answer, of course, she'd been expecting. "I had a feeling you'd say something like that," she told him with a smile. Tilting his head so that his forehead rested against hers, he closed his eyes, just listening to the rain. With a smile that matched his, she did the same, and for more than a few minutes they stood just like that, leaned against the rocky ledge as they waited for the rain to stop – forehead to forehead with their eyes closed, appreciating the moment and each other, and even their wet feet. It was a small price to pay, after all.

His words from what felt like a million years ago tumbled through her head just then. _"All of this led me to you. And you to me. And that is something that I would never want to undo."_

Never in a million years could she have predicted that she would have ended up here. And yet, at that moment she could not think of anywhere else in the world that would be as perfect.

 _Maybe at home, snuggled under a blanket with him…?_ the voice in her head suggested helpfully.

 _Nope,_ she replied. _There are some things that are meant to happen. This is one of them. Though I'm definitely looking forward to being at home and snuggled under a blanket with him again in the not too distant future, that's for sure._

As she pulled herself back out of her thoughts and once again became conscious of the fact that her forehead was still leaned against his, she was flooded with a sensation that she had still not gotten used to again – happiness. In some ways, she wondered if maybe she was afraid to get used to it again. After all, she knew how much it hurt to lose it. To lose _him_. At that moment, however, she was tempted to think that it would be a mistake to resist the way she felt about him. After all, Kurt was clearly not going to give up on her. Surely he had proven that at this point, by following her here…

Inhaling deeply, she took her time as she exhaled the same breath, once again reminding herself that it was all real. This would've been one hell of a horrible thing to wake up from, after all.

"Pinch me," she told him quietly.

"Why?" he asked in amusement. "You're not dreaming." When she didn't reply, he knew that she wasn't convinced. Leaning back, he looked at her expression. Her eyes were still closed, but he was pretty sure he was reading her correctly. "Jane," he said softly. When she didn't reply or open her eyes, he tried again. "Jane, look at me." Slowly, her eyes blinked open. His right thumb was moving across her left cheek, and for more than a minute, they simply looked into each other's eyes.

Finally, he broke the silence quietly. "Do you still want me to pinch you?"

"No," she whispered. What had been a more serious face curved slowly into a smile. That was when she noticed that the rain had stopped once again. She lowered the umbrella that she'd been holding over them, waiting tentatively to see whether there was any remaining drizzle. There wasn't.

Looking over his shoulder at the lack of rain, and at the now much brighter sky, he smiled as well. "Looks like it's time to keep walking."

"As much as I'm enjoying these rain delays," Jane said with a grin, "I hope it can stay clear this afternoon so the ground can dry out. I'd rather we didn't have to sleep in the mud tonight."

His arms had slipped to her waist, and he looked at her mischievously once again. "I'd sleep with you in the mud," he told her.

"I'm sure you would," she replied, raising her eyebrows at his indistinct implication. "But let's hope it doesn't come to that. At least until we're within a day of a shower."

"I think I can wait that long," he grinned as she stepped around him to clip the umbrella to the back of his backpack once again. The back side had clearly gotten rained on, and she wondered how the things inside had fared. Not that it mattered as much as the fact that they were both there, together.

"What am I going to do with you?" she asked with a laugh as they fell into step side by side.

"Sleep with me in the mud, apparently," he told her with a grin, as she slapped him playfully with the back of her hand. He grabbed her hand and held onto it securely as she just shook her head at him, smiling happily.

Thankfully, the ground they were currently walking on was still rocky, because there was a distinct _lack_ of mud here. Further along, they might not be so lucky, depending on the weather.

Her back was wet, as was her backpack, and probably everything inside, along with her feet and her legs up to almost her knees. And yet, it didn't bother her a bit. The sun was peeking out of the clouds, brightening the landscape significantly, and already casting away any chill in the air, but mostly, it had to do with the man beside her. She could have faced a journey ten times as long as the one that lay ahead of them and it would not have mattered. They were there together, and that was all she needed.


	4. Remembering

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

 _A/N: Thank you everyone for reading, and for writing such nice reviews… and thank you_ _ **MSerrada**_ _, for the great idea for part of this chapter – I'm not sure why it hadn't occurred to me! – and_ _ **andyrunsandclimbs**_ _for being my Wilderness Survival Consultant. ;)_

They'd been walking for a while in silence occasionally glancing at each other and squeezing the other's hand. Each of them were lost in their own thoughts – they both had a lot to think about.

As her mind continued to scroll through images, it had only been a matter of time before one came up that she didn't want to see. Really, she'd expected it to happen sooner, but she'd been so overwhelmed by the present time since Kurt had arrived the evening before, her mind hadn't had a lot of chances to roam. _This_ was the thing she'd feared… or, the beginning of it anyway. Interspersed with a flow of memories that were her own was one that was very distinctly Remi's.

Kurt noticed the change in Jane immediately. Her hand stiffened in his and when he glanced at her, he saw the tension in her face. No, not just tension… that wasn't a strong enough word. What he saw on her face was more like fear. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes fixed somewhere in the distance and her breathing labored, as if she was having an asthma attack. Even just that by itself would have been strange, because in all the time he'd known her, she'd never had asthma.

"Jane?" he asked, immediately concerned, stepping in front of her and attempting to get into her field of vision. "Hey… what's wrong?"

But she couldn't hear him, nor could she see him. Suddenly she couldn't even feel his hand in hers. No, at that moment she was far, far away.

When she'd first had one of Remi's memories, she'd been at home alone. It rarely happened anymore, but Kurt had had paperwork to finish and she'd been feeling sick, so he'd insisted that she go home and rest instead of waiting for him. Normally she would have refused, but because she really _had_ felt sick, she'd relented. Back at his – _their –_ apartment (she wasn't sure she'd ever get used to calling it theirs), she'd been standing by the window, looking down at the street. As she'd turned back around and glanced into the living room, something had triggered the memory that she hadn't even known that she had. Ever since then, it had happened frequently enough to keep her constantly on edge, wondering what horrible thing she was going to remember next – and after everything that had happened with Roman, she couldn't help but wonder if having those memories return would turn her back into Remi, too. The thought was terrifying, so much so that she'd forced herself into exile.

"Jane," Kurt tried again. He was getting worried, because this wasn't normal. She'd zoned out a little from time to time, but he'd always been the one who was able to reach her. All at once, he watched her face crumple as her knees buckled. He realized at the last second that she was about to fall, and thanks to his quick reflexes, he managed to catch her around her waist, stumbling under her weight for a second before he regained his balance.

He lowered her slowly along with him toward the nearest large rock, which sat just off the path they were on. It was smaller than the one they had sat on in the rain, but big enough to provide a flat surface on which he could steady her. Once he was sure that he was steady enough to sit on the rock on her own, he moved back slightly to kneel on the ground right in front of her. His hands rested just above her knees, his thumbs moving gently back and forth.

"Hey, come on, Jane, it's okay," he murmured soothingly. Watching her, he could see that she was still somewhere else.

Jane was, indeed, somewhere else at that moment. She was standing in the semi-darkness with Shepherd and Roman in a room where the windows were covered with heavy curtains, looking at a hand drawn paper diagram that filled one long sheet of paper. It was so big that it covered the long, rectangular table, and would have to have been rolled up in order to move it. There were, however, some blank spots on the page – parts of the plan that had yet to be filled in. They'd been working on this carefully for a long time, and it was just a matter of finding the right components. Shepherd had insisted that it could all be done.

Without any other clues to tell her, she knew that this memory took place at the compound that had been blown up in the failed FBI raid, the one from which Kurt had been spared because someone had called him, pretending that Allie was in the hospital while pregnant with his child. But this memory had happened long before all that – long before Jane had become Jane – the lack of tattoos on the backs of her hands and up her arms was proof. This was the formation of Sandstorm's plan. Standing in the darkness that day, they had still been agonizing over how to make the pieces of the puzzle fit together, how to get the right people into the right positions. How to move the COGS into place.

In her memory, she could see Shepherd looking at her as if she'd just had an idea that she couldn't quite articulate yet, as if it wasn't quite fully formed. And just like that, she – Remi – knew what her mother was thinking. It made sense. It was insane, and it would mean giving up everything she had, the future she'd expected to have… but it solved their problems. And if she didn't do this, for her mother and her mother's family and _so many others_ , then how could she live with herself, knowing that she could have been the one to change everything, but she chose herself over the rest of humanity? The answer was simple - she couldn't. She had no other choice.

"It has to be me," Jane heard Remi tell Shepherd calmly – _too_ calmly, all things considered – in a voice that sent an icy chill down her spine as she remembered. _Is it really considered remembering if you weren't the one who did it?_ she wondered.

 _But I_ _ **was**_ _the one who did it,_ she reminded herself. For a second, it was hard to breathe, as if a heavy weight was pressing down on her.

Her mother just nodded, looking pleased, as though someone had just given her the gift that she'd most wanted. Really, Remi had just done exactly that. There was nothing and no one that Shepherd wouldn't sacrifice to achieve the overthrow of the corrupt government that she'd vowed to take down. It didn't matter that doing so would mean losing the young woman she had raised as her own daughter.

"Yes," Shepherd whispered, "It's perfect. He'll trust you because _**you**_ _can be Taylor_." She nodded with what looked suspiciously like glee.

"Wait, is someone going to fill me in?" Roman demanded, looking from his sister to his mother. He was desperately confused about what had just happened between the two of them. Even though he didn't know what was going on, he already knew that he didn't like it. That much was clear from his expression.

"Your sister is the answer we've been searching for. The key to it all," Shepherd told him, sounding frighteningly dazed. Her eyes were fixed on the diagram on the table, and she was beginning to grin. It wasn't an everyday happy grin, more an evil mastermind type grin.

Roman just stared at the two of them, shaking his head in disbelief. "You don't mean…"

"We're going to do it," Remi said. "After all this time, we're really going to do it."

Without realizing it, Roman was shaking his head now. "But what if it doesn't work? What if he – Weller – what if he finds out and—"

Shepherd smiled patronizingly at her son, as a normal mother might have at a small child who was protesting against going to the dentist. "Weller will do exactly what I want him to," she said, her voice icy and detached. "After all this time, I know him. I know how he'll react. And with her," Shepherd tilted her head toward Remi and continued, "we have the leverage we need. The best part is, _neither_ of them will know they're being controlled."

Roman's mouth fell open in surprise and confusion. "But… what do you… you're not going to… It hasn't been tested enough. You can't…"

"Oh, I _can_ ," she replied, her eyes narrowing with the obvious displeasure of being challenged by her son. "But if you have a problem with it… you may _go_." Roman's eyes widened. After all, he knew that she wasn't just suggesting that he could leave the room.

His eyes fell to the floor in front of him, and he shook his head. "No, ma'am," he said, almost in a whisper. "I'm sorry. I just…" He looked up at Remi imploringly, begging her with his eyes not to do this.

Even though it had been Remi and not Jane who had been there, Jane felt exactly how Remi had felt in that moment. That was probably the thing that terrified her the most. It wasn't like watching someone else do something. No, the memory was just as vivid as the one from the day she'd met Kurt. Just as vivid as her memory of the first time she'd kissed him. So how could this be someone else? How could she say that this hadn't been her? How could she say that she _wasn't_ Remi?

And that was why she'd left. If she felt the emotions that went along with those actions – things that had been done by a stranger, and yet also by _her_ – then how could she _not_ be both Remi _and_ Jane? And if even a little part of her was Remi, how could she be sure that she wouldn't react as Remi would in any given situation? Remi had undoubtedly done _so many things_ that Jane was terrified of remembering. Just from being inside that memory for a few minutes, she felt cold and detached, unlike herself.

 _That must be how Remi felt all the time,_ Jane thought, horrified. _That is the person that Shepherd trained her to be. But how can a person_ _ **live**_ _like that? Without any feelings? Without any empathy for other people? With so little regard for life that killing is just another thing that she did, a perfectly acceptable means to an end?_

Now, finally emerging from the memory, she gasped slightly as a rush of emotions, the most predominant one being fear, overtook her. In these memories of Remi's, she felt only what Remi felt, which was almost nothing. However, as soon as the memory's hold on her loosened, the effect was quite the opposite, as if every pent up emotion that Remi _hadn't_ had surged through her at once, plus somehow even more, just for good measure.

Sitting on that rock, Jane fell forward, literally knocked over by the force of her emotions. Thankfully, since Kurt was sitting right in front of her, she landed against him. He quickly clamped his arms around her lest she continue to fall and land on the rocky ground. Beginning to emerge from her thoughts, for a second she didn't recognize her surroundings, and she struggled against him. In her mind, she was still back at the Sandstorm compound, and who knew _who_ was holding her down. But Kurt began murmuring reassurances softly again, calling her "Jane" as many times as he could and rubbing her back.

After a few seconds he felt her stop struggling, collapsing against him and beginning to sob. "Shhhhh," he whispered, pulling her as tightly to him as he could. "It's okay, Jane."

 _But it's_ _ **not**_ _okay_ , was all she could think. _He doesn't understand. Of course he doesn't. How could he?_ _Why did I let him to talk me into going back?_ _For his own good, I need to get as far away from him as possible._

 _That won't work and you know it,_ the voice in her head reminded her. _He found you here, and he'll find you again if you run._

This knowledge, that there was nothing she could do to protect him, made her stomach clench in frustration, and suddenly she knew that she was going to be sick. Pushing him away from her as hard as she could, her sudden movement seemed to catch him off balance, which was probably the only reason she got past him. However, all she succeeded in doing was falling to the ground on her hands and knees, immediately feeling the pain of the small jagged rocks piercing her skin because she fell so hard onto them. Still, it was a relief, in some strange way. She'd become so accustomed to pain, told herself that it was what she deserved, that it felt like exactly what was supposed to happen. In seconds, the meager contents of her stomach were emptying onto the ground, and her desperate tears, which had stopped only moments before, had begun again with even more force than the first time.

As soon as she'd broken loose from him, Kurt had reached for Jane, attempting to catch her before she hit the ground. To his dismay, he couldn't manage it, but in seconds he was kneeling carefully beside her. Her long hair had been secured in a ponytail, but somewhere along the way it had loosened, and he held back her hair to make sure that it wouldn't end up with any of the offensive smelling material in it.

Still having been unsuccessful in getting her to respond to him, he was becoming more and more concerned. When she'd stopped throwing up, he put an arm around the front of her waist, tugging gently. "Come on, Jane, let's get you up," he told her. He'd half expected her to fight him, but was surprised when she allowed herself to be lifted back up to the rock. The heels of her hands were bleeding and she'd torn multiple small holes in the knees of her pants, where her skin seemed to be bleeding a little bit as well, but she didn't seem to notice. Instead, she simply looked at him, saying nothing, her face full of anguish. At some point in the last few minutes he'd dropped his gear, and now he was rummaging in his overloaded backpack for the first aid kit and a toothbrush.

The first thing he handed her was a bottle of water, with the top already removed. He knew that he also needed to stop the bleeding on her hands – though it wasn't life threatening – but he didn't have anything clean to hand her while he looked for the first aid kit that seemed to be at the very bottom of his bag. After all, he'd been on trails and sleeping on the ground for weeks. Everything he had with him was dirty, at this point. The cleanest he could hope for was the things that had been worn and then "rinsed" by the rain. Realizing this, he found the t-shirt he'd been wearing the _last_ time he'd been soaked by the rain and then dried by a campfire – it had happened more than once, despite his umbrella – and tore a long strip off from around the bottom.

 _That shirt was a little too long, anyway_ , he thought. Tearing the strip in half, he let go of his backpack for the moment and crouched in front of Jane. Folding each piece of cloth, he laid them gently against the injured parts of her hands, then pressed her hands together to keep pressure on them.

"Keep your hands together for me for a second, okay?" he asked her, looking up at her worriedly. Though she didn't reply, her fingers interlocked slowly, pulling her hands tightly together.

The thing that worried Kurt the most just then wasn't the small injuries that needed bandaging, it was the dullness he saw in her eyes. It wasn't the harshness of Remi, but it also wasn't Jane. He couldn't help but worry about her, and about what must be going on in her head.

He finally found the first aid kit and his toothbrush and toothpaste. Letting a few drops of water fall onto the toothbrush, he added a small dab of toothpaste and then handed it to her. In a few minutes he had wiped down all of the affected areas on her hands with antibacterial wipes, then bandaged them up. At that point he rolled up her pants and worked on her knees while she brushed her teeth, spitting the toothpaste off to the far side of her and rinsing her mouth with water from the bottle he'd given her before. The holes in the knees of her pants weren't large, and for now they weren't a priority. As far as he was concerned, now that she was no longer bleeding, his priority was getting her to at least look at him.

"Jane, let's go and sit on that next rock, a little further down," he suggested. "It shouldn't smell as bad over there." Her eyes did finally focus on him then, but she didn't reply, didn't move except to tilt her eyes upwards to follow him when he stood up and hoisted his two bags onto his back again, looking down at her expectantly. He tried his best to smile, but he was too worried, and his face just didn't react the way he wanted it to.

She knew that she should save him the trouble of trying to pull her up, but she simply couldn't convince her body to cooperate with her mind. It was as though everything was on a time delay, and she hadn't yet caught up. However, this time when he put a hand on her back, then leaned over slowly, trying to keep his balance while wearing all of his gear as he slid his hand across her back, she slowly felt her ability to lift herself returning.

He was pleasantly surprised when he felt her lifting up without relying completely on him, and he took it as a positive sign. Together they walked to the next large, flat rock, just a little farther down the path, where the stench of throw up wasn't noticeable. Helping her settle back down again, he once again set down his gear and then sat down beside her.

"Jane…" he began, not sure what to say next, suddenly, only that he had to say _something_. He had to keep her with him, had to convince her that he wasn't scared, no matter how much she seemed to believe that she was a danger to him. He turned to face her, sitting on her right, and put his left arm slowly around her back. Finding no resistance, his right arm moved around the front of her, beginning at her right shoulder but draping downwards so that his right hand rested close to her waist. It was less than a minute before he felt her lean towards him, her head falling against his left shoulder little by little.

"It doesn't happen all the time, but… often enough," she whispered, sounding exhausted. "I'll remember things that I guess I – _she_ – was there for. I don't remember all of it at once, necessarily, but the things I do remember… I remember how it _felt_. How _she_ felt at that time. I think that's the part I can't get past. Because it's not like watching someone else… There's these things I suddenly remember saying and doing and feeling and it's not me, but… it _**is**_. It doesn't look like a movie, like watching someone else do it. It's like remembering _myself_ doing it… Because it _is_ me. And if I can do those things, then what else…" She stopped, choking on her own words.

His heart ached for her yet again, and he pulled her tighter. "Jane, it wasn't you. It's not you. And it's not going to _be_ you," he told her soothingly.

"I wish I could know that for sure," she whispered. Then, with a sigh, she added, "I just want it to stop. I just want to go back to…" With a shake of her head, she squeezed her eyes closed, realizing that there was no time that she could remember than had been easy. Even the time after their wedding, when she'd been so happy, she'd felt a nagging fear that it had too good to be true, and it was so good only because Shepherd had _allowed_ her to get to that point to set up for another something terrible. Never mind that Shepherd was in a dark hole somewhere. Jane just couldn't believe that the woman could be contained forever. Eventually, she would escape, and then she would come for Jane.

"I don't know," she finished, drained of nearly all emotion.

He was rocking her gently, without even noticing that he was doing it at first, and she turned around slowly to face him, leaning against him and wrapping her arms around his middle. Yet again, she'd forced herself to forget how much this helped her – just this, _him_ , holding onto her like this. Just then it seemed amazing that she'd ever been able to make herself forget, because _how_ could she ever have forgotten this feeling?

"I'm sorry," he whispered, feeling truly helpless. He turned his head slightly and kissed her temple, wishing there was something more than he could do.

"All that time," she murmured, suddenly sounding far away. "When I couldn't remember any of it. And I wanted nothing as desperately as I wanted to remember my past. And now…" She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, feeling herself on the verge of tears again, shaking her head against the onslaught of memories. She saw that same one again, as well as many others that flashed more quickly through her mind and froze as single images, piling up as if they were layered on top of each other. "I just wish I could forget." Her last words would have been too quiet for him to hear if he hadn't been holding her so close.

"I know," he whispered, for lack of anything better to say. "But it's going to be okay." A choked sob escaped her and she shook her head, unable to speak. He did the only thing he could think to do – he held on tighter still, leaning his cheek against the top of her head.

She wished she could believe it, but at that moment, the idea that anything could ever be okay was even harder to believe than it had been back at the very beginning, when she had remembered nothing. Now she had the opposite problem, and yet it was even worse. As much as she wanted to believe him… how could it possibly _ever_ be okay?

He felt her shudder at his words, and he knew that she probably couldn't believe it, as much as she might want to. It made him sad, but he understood. After everything that had happened, in some ways it was like they were starting over – no, they were starting out even farther back than they had in the first place, because there was now so much _more_ baggage. In other ways, of course, they were starting out miles and miles ahead, and not just because they were married. No, as strong as their connection had been at first, it was a thousand times stronger now because of what they'd gone through together.

As if there wasn't enough for them to deal with at that moment, there was also the fact that the needed to keep moving. They had a three day hike down the mountain, and they had three days' worth of food. So far today, their pace was about half of what it should be because of several stops which, while they had been necessary at the time for one reason or another, were not helping them stay on pace.

"I hate to say this, but we can't afford to sit here much longer," he told her hesitantly. "Are you going to be okay to walk for a while?" They needed to at least make progress, even if their pace was slow. Slow was better than nothing, at least.

"Yeah," she replied softly. The fire that was usually in her voice was missing, however. It came out as more doubtful than anything else, despite her affirmative answer. Nodding his head, Kurt reluctantly dropped his arms from around her and pushed himself back up to his feet, then turned around to help her off the rock. She took the hand he offered, letting him pull her up, standing there for a second and just looking at him sadly as she continued to hold onto his hand.

Such despair on the face of someone he'd seen endure so much without so much as a complaint, even when it would have been perfectly justified, was painful to see. Without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around her, relieved when he felt her relax against him immediately and without hesitation. They could do this. The two of them, together.

They took several deep breaths together, in unison, before leaning back slowly, their arms falling back towards their sides as he turned around to pick up his backpacks. Jane hadn't even realized that she'd been wearing hers the whole time. No wonder her shoulders hurt. Within seconds of Kurt settling their gear on his back, their hands, which had been joined in the first place, were once again squeezed tightly together.

"Come on," he told her. "Let's try to get as far as we can before we take a break and have something to eat."

The thought of food made her feel queasy just then, but since he wasn't actually suggesting she eat at that moment, she was able to push it from her mind. Eating was one of the many things that she felt like she would never do again, judging from how she was feeling just then.

 _Just put one foot in front of the other,_ she told herself.

In her mind, she attempted to come up with a train of thought that was safe, that wouldn't give her flashbacks or lead to her defaulting to Remi's memories or otherwise upset her. Her mind flipped through a very short series of happy images – there wasn't an abundance from which she could choose, after all. Even some of the ones that had provided a happy moment between the two of them had been associated with something else, mainly Sandstorm… Her mind was a web of pitfalls.

Finally, as they began to walk hand in hand, in silence, she settled her thoughts on their wedding day. There were few days that had gone according to plan, whatever that plan may have been, since she had been delivered to the FBI, but thankfully, that had been one of them. Patterson, who had appointed herself Chief Wedding Planner, had seen to that. Had it been up to Jane and Kurt, they would have just as easily gone to City Hall and been married by a judge. However, Jane hadn't dared to say this out loud to Patterson and Zapata, who had taken it upon themselves to plan a small but absolutely perfect ceremony and reception with the people who mattered most to them.

The part of the preparations that had taken the longest and caused the most stress had been her wedding dress. It had taken longer for the three women to find the right dress than it had to plan the entire rest of the ceremony and reception, longer than taking care of all of the other details combined. Again, Jane would have happily worn a tank top and jeans. She didn't see the need for such a fuss – and such an expensive fuss, at that – over something that would be worn exactly one time. Besides, she wasn't exactly comfortable in the frilly dresses that her friends had made her try on. _Just wait_ , they'd told her. _You'll see._

Her thoughts settled on Day Seven of wedding dress shopping. Another full Saturday of Patterson and Zapata dragging Jane around all parts of New York City to try on dresses that made her feel a thousand times more _ridiculous_ than that first dress she'd worn to go undercover with Kurt. She'd been getting tired of all the nonsensical fuss over a dress that apparently didn't exist, quite honestly, but didn't have the heart to say so to the two women who were so determined that not only did such a dress _exist,_ but that they were going to find it. _If_ it actually existed, Jane was sure, it was going to cost about a million dollars. She knew that there were dresses out there that cost far upwards of what an FBI agent could make in a year, because they'd made her try on the expensive ones, just for fun, as well.

The last dress she'd tried on that day, at a tiny, hole in the wall shop somewhere in Brooklyn – Jane had stopped even paying attention to where they were, since Patterson and Zapata insisted on dragging her from one end of the Earth to the other – hadn't looked spectacular on the hanger. Or maybe it was just that she'd been forced to look at so many dresses that she no longer saw anything but a blur of white. Whatever stamina for shopping the other two women had, Jane was pretty sure that she would never come anywhere close to it. If shopping had been an Olympic sport, Patterson would have taken gold and Zapata silver, Jane had decided.

But it turned out that the dress was Jane's size, and it was white, with enough sparkle to satisfy her friends, but not so much that Jane recoiled, as she had at some of the others they'd suggested. She didn't want to feel like the ball made of crystals that was dropped on New Year's Eve, after all.

When she'd emerged from the fitting room, she'd been ready to throw up her hands and ask if they could please, please be finished for that day. She'd never been a fan of shopping, and though it _was_ fun to spend the day with Patterson and Zapata, it would have been significantly more fun to spend it doing something else. Almost _anything_ else, really. At that moment, she couldn't help but wish for a criminal to chase down or a tattoo lead to follow up on. For some reason, more than anything else, shopping simply exhausted her. She hadn't even bothered to _look_ at herself in the mirror, simply watching the reaction of the other two women to gauge how the dress looked on her.

However, the looks on the faces of the other two when she stepped out in front of the mirror caught her off guard. Seeing their mouths open in surprise, she finally turned and looked at herself reluctantly in the mirror. This felt like perhaps the five hundredth dress she tried on in the past few months, or maybe the ten thousandth, and yet somehow, looking at her reflection at that moment, she suddenly got the feeling that this was the one she was supposed to have. After staring at herself in the mirror in surprise, she walked closer to it to for a better look. Upon closer inspection, she saw that there were tiny flecks of light green sewn into the white fabric behind each of the crystals that littered the dress, most heavily concentrated on the top, but also scattered over the rest of the A-line style skirt.

"Please tell me this one doesn't cost a million dollars," Zapata said when she recovered the power of speech. "I'll start a Go Fund Me account if I have to, but it would be so much easier if we could just buy it and be done." She walked up behind Jane and checked the price tag, which was poking out of the back of the dress, and they were all pleasantly surprised to discover that this dress was not only _almost_ reasonably priced to start with – for a wedding dress, anyway – but that it was also fifty percent off.

"Alright then, finally our work here is done," Patterson had declared to Zapata, satisfied that they had found the perfect dress. The two grinned at each other triumphantly, then looked back at Jane's reflection, watching for her reaction.

Jane wasn't absorbing anything they were saying. Her friends' voices had faded into background noise as she examined herself in the three paneled mirror. She'd gotten closer to the center panel, standing inches away to examine the dress in detail, and stood there, almost mesmerized by it. Though she hadn't wanted anything nearly that fancy, she now saw why her friends had insisted. It certainly wasn't typical _Jane_ … but it was breathtaking.

She could appreciate the fact that the dress went down to the floor, thereby covering a large percentage of her tattoos. Still, the ones on her arms, neck and chest were exposed. They stood out in stark contrast to the white of the fabric, obscured only by thin spaghetti straps. Even so, the sparkle of the crystals _almost_ distracted from the dark ink, and the flecks of green behind them helped to make her eyes look even greener than usual. When she turned around to look at the back over her shoulder in the mirror, she saw that the top of the dress came up just below the bottom of her most prominent tattoo, _KURT WELLER FBI_. That seemed especially fitting, and she couldn't help but smile at her reflection.

Zapata and Patterson had now advanced towards her, bringing their excited chatter into her ears. "So, what do _you_ think, Jane?" they asked. She'd just smiled, turning back around to face forward, toward the mirror, but looked from Patterson's reflection to Zapata's and back again, beaming.

"It's perfect," she replied, her voice softer than usual. Just before she remembered the two of them squealing excitedly, the memory faded, and she was back in the present.

Suddenly, she felt his hand squeezing hers. Her eyes adjusted to the light again, and she could once again see the trail ahead of them, leading down a mountain. "Hey," Kurt was saying from beside her, "You okay?"

Feeling calmer now, after reliving a _happy_ memory, she nodded as she looked back at him. "I was just remembering…" When he raised his eyebrows warily, she shook her head. "No, I was remembering something _happy_. For once. You know, just for variety."

Uttered in a different tone, her words may have signaled that she was upset, but as it was, she was smiling and she actually sounded happy. _A happy memory_ , he thought with relief _. Well, good. That's a nice change._ After all, those weren't the ones she usually bombarded herself with.

He was watching her curiously, and she could see that he _really_ wanted to know what she'd been thinking about that had made her so happy, which only made her smile harder. The more he smiled at her, the more she smiled at him. His concern for her was so endearing… Finally she gave in to his unspoken request.

"I was thinking about the last day that Patterson and Zapata dragged me out wedding dress shopping. The day we found _the one_ ," she told him. That thought, of course, led back to their wedding by extension, and it was only a second before they were _both_ grinning from ear to ear.

No matter how difficult things were right now, he couldn't deny that that day had been magical. It had been hard for him to think about their wedding for the past six months, since Jane had been gone. Not that that had stopped him, of course. On the contrary, he had thought about it, and about her, every time he had looked down at the wedding ring that he had refused to take off – no matter how much those thoughts had hurt. Thankfully, now he had her back, and now he could breathe again. The memories of that day no longer stung.

Watching her smile filled him with happiness. "You looked so beautiful that day," he told her, then watched her blush. Then, because it was the truth, but _also_ to see her blush again, he added, "Of course, you look beautiful _now_ , too."

A laugh escaped from her then, as she looked down at herself. She was wearing hiking boots, there were holes in the knees of her pants, and she was wearing a plain white t-shirt that wasn't _nearly_ as white as it was supposed to be. Who knew how she smelled at that point? In short, she felt about as scrubby as she'd ever been. Shaking her head, she looked back at him in amusement. Was he kidding?

"I'm serious," he told her sincerely. His expression said that he meant what he was saying, she noticed, and she blushed again.

"I look like… like I've lived with monks for…" She shook her head, unable to even say for sure. "I don't even _know_ long I was here," she protested softly, her tone suddenly changing from happy to wistful.

"Too long," he replied in a whisper, his voice breaking as the words slipped out before he could catch them. Then, forcing his voice to steady, he added, "I don't think you've _ever_ looked so beautiful. Or…" He paused, thinking of the other option. "I'm just so glad to have found you…" He was surprised when he felt her tugging him to a stop, her hand pulling him even closer as she leaned up to kiss him, closing her eyes for the short but sweet kiss.

"You're quite the sight for sore eyes, yourself," she told him in a whisper, her eyes still closed as she tilted her forehead against the bridge of his nose. If only she could capture the way she was feeling at that exact moment, she would have bottled it up and saved it forever.

"She says, with her eyes closed," he whispered, chuckling, as he shifted so that he could kiss her forehead. He took the opportunity, since they were stopped, to wrap his arms around her once again. He had the feeling that this was going to be a compulsive habit for quite a while… and that was quite alright with him.

"Technicalities," she replied with a smile as she opened her eyes. She was _never_ going to get tired of opening her eyes to find them there in front of her.

They couldn't afford to make another stop just then, however, so simply looking at each other for a few seconds, they nodded in silent agreement. Reluctantly let go of each other, turning back toward the path and once again lacing their fingers together as they began walking.

It was about two hours later – though neither of them had bothered to check the time – when Kurt tugged her to a stop. The ground was slowly become less rocky, so there were no more large rocks on which to sit, but it was also covered in less and less gravel and more and more dirt. Or, as was the case right now, _mud_.

"Let's take a break," Kurt suggested, and Jane was certainly not going to argue with him. Slowly, since he was now stiff from carrying the weight for so long, he took his backpack off his back and moved things around inside until he found what he was looking for – a tarp to spread out so that they could sit down without ending up covered in mud.

Without a word, they each took a side and spread it out, using their backpacks to anchor it against the wind that whipped around them. That took care of three of the corners, and on the fourth Kurt put a bottle of water from the collection the monks had given them. That taken care of, they moved to sit down carefully, trying to avoid getting mud on the tarp if at all possible. After all, they would undoubtedly need it numerous times between now and when they got home.

Once again, they settled down close together, both leaning against the other – slightly at first, almost as if they weren't sure what the other would think, but then more deliberately. Once again they remembered that they fit together perfectly.

"My socks are still wet," he thought aloud. "I want to take them off and put on a clean pair, but I have a feeling that I'm never going to want to put my boots back on again… Also, are your feet hurting? Or is it just me?"

Jane nodded in agreement. She had the same inner conflict about not wanting to change her socks, knowing that putting her boots back on would feel even worse. "It's _not_ just you," she groaned. "I only noticed when we sat down, but my feet kind of feel like… like they're _on fire_."

"Changing socks is a good idea then," he decided. "Do you need some help?"

"Help? No, that's fine, I can—"

But it was too late. He'd reached over and begun untying her boots, being as gentle as possible when he lifted the right one, which was closest to him – off of her foot and set it nearby, followed a moment later by the left one. She scooted back slightly now that her boots were off, her feet on the tarp.

"Oh wow, Jane—" he started, but she cut him off.

"Oh my—what in the world is happening with my feet?" Jane asked, staring at red splotches on her socks, which the water had helped to spread out considerably across the white fabric. Kurt frowned, his own boots still on his feet, sitting just off the tarp. He scooted back slightly to make space on his lap, then pulled her feet gently up to rest there.

"Let's take a look," he told her, not feeling nearly as panicked as _she_ looked. Now that he thought about it, it made sense. Their wet feet were probably covered in blisters…

 _Just what we needed when the main thing we have to do to get home is walk_ , he thought.

As gently as he could, he peeled off her first sock, then the other, revealing just what he'd expected. The morning's walk had rubbed blisters into her feet, quite a few of which had popped and were bleeding. They weren't gushing, however, and thanks to the wet socks – which were the predominant cause of them in the first place – they had looked much worse than they were.

"Do they hurt?" he asked her, watching Jane carefully as she looked down at her feet. She inhaled just a little deeper than usual before replying, "Well, they don't feel _good_ , but… It's not too bad." The look on her face for just a split second reminded him that she had been through _much_ worse than blisters on her feet. Though it seemed backwards, he winced while she did not.

 _They're just blisters, no big deal,_ she thought, shivering as she recalled some of the more painful things she'd been through at the hands of the CIA.

"Let's get them cleaned up," he told her. "Infected blisters are definitely worse." Realizing that he couldn't move around very well while his feet were planted on the dirt around the tarp, he glared at his feet before beginning to unlace his own boots. "I'll get the first aid kit in a second," he told her. "I just need to be able to reach my pack." His feet now freed from his own boots, he set her feet down on the tarp and ignored the fact that his socks looked very much like hers, with red splotches all over. He crawled to the other side of the tarp to retrieve the first aid kit, and when he had the supplies that he needed laid out in reach, he beckoned her back over.

"Let me have those feet again," he told her. Shaking her head at him but smiling at the chance to put her feet in his lap, she did as she was told, sitting back a little to be able to reach at the right angle and then just watching him contentedly. It felt decadent to be able to just sit and look at him.

He knew that she was grinning at him, could feel the warmth of her stare on him as he gently turned her foot for a better look. He had a spray version of an antiseptic, and he ended up spraying it on so much of her foot, that there were few areas _without_ any. Patting her foot all over with a disposable cloth, he looked back up into her eyes, which were fixed on what he was doing, but quickly snapped up to look into his. For just a second, his hand stopped moving as he almost forgot what he was doing. At that moment, he felt like no matter how much he looked at her, it might never be enough. He wondered if the feeling of fear that she would simply vanish into thin air, which he felt just then, would ever go away.

There was something in his eyes just then as he looked at her, as though he'd just been distracted from the task at hand by… She couldn't put her finger on it. His eyes were happy, and yet sad at the same time.

 _You did this to him,_ she thought, despite what he'd said about understanding why she'd left, about not being angry, and the appearance of confidence that they would work through it. She was angry with herself, even though she hadn't thought that she had another choice.

He watched the happiness in her face drain out, even as her expression didn't change almost at all. It must be showing in his face, he realized… the strain. They were both far too perceptive when it came to each other, and just now there was so much still to work out between them… it made things complicated, even though on the surface it felt simple. They were relieved to be together, but the hard part wasn't _all_ behind them.

The simple part was, of course, that both of them were desperately happy to be reunited. They had both feared that they would never see the other again, and neither had known how in the world they could go on that way – without the person who made them feel whole. The more complicated part was what hurt so much, even as they were so happy. They each felt it differently, but they both felt the pain deeply.

For a few seconds, they just stared at each other, a million things passing between them without either of them saying a word. And then Kurt smiled slightly, as if to remind her that it was okay. Then Jane smiled back in return, also just slightly, and once again, it felt like things were going to be alright after all. He moved on to her other foot, spraying the antiseptic on the raw spots and then patting her foot dry, looking up at her once again.

"They should be dry enough for socks in a few minutes," he told her, no longer looking at her feet, but into her eyes.

"Thanks," she murmured. "You're going to let me return the favor, right?"

He opened his mouth with the intention of protesting, but he saw her looking at the splotches on his feet, and he got the distinct feeling that she wasn't going to accept "no" for an answer. And then, of course, there was the fact that he was certainly not averse to her taking care of him. Thankfully, he thought just long enough to stop himself from declining.

"Yeah," he replied quietly. "As soon as yours are done." She seemed to accept this, nodding back at him. "In the meantime," he told her, "we need to eat something." Besides the bottle of water that he set down between them, he pulled out a small bundle wrapped in a cloth. It was from the provisions the monks had provided them, so they didn't know what it was until he unwrapped it. Upon inspection, it appeared to be a small pile of some sort of dumplings.

Kurt picked one up, but instead of taking a bite out of it, he offered it to Jane. She'd been watching the gesture, and now her eyes once again came up to meet his, radiating surprise and, if he was not mistaken, just a little more happiness than they had before. "Here," he said in a low voice. "Give it a try."

"I've had these already," she assured him. "They're very good."

"Oh, right… I forgot…" he voice trailed off, and he felt his face tighten as he looked away.

 _Of course,_ he realized. _She's already been here for quite a while. She already knows their food._ For some reason this bothered him, and for a few seconds he struggled with why, even as he felt Jane now watching him. He reached for a dumpling absently as well, holding it between his fingers but not taking a bite. _Why does that bother me?_ he wondered.

 _Because it's a reminder that she left, and of how long she'd been here,_ the voice in his head told him matter-of-factly. _Not that you need another reminder, of course, but that's what it is._

Her smile faded as well, and she felt the urge to do something. She knew that he didn't _want_ her to feel guilty, that he wasn't purposely doing anything to elicit a sympathetic reaction out of her, but she also knew that watching him suffer wasn't any easier for her than watching her suffer was for him. She needed time to get over what she had done to them, but so did he. Time and patience and…

Lifting her feet off of his lap, she turned slightly, scooting backwards until she sat beside him. "Try it," she urged him quietly, which was when he realized that he was still holding the dumpling. He popped the whole thing in his mouth and bit into it, then nodded his approval. Now that his right hand was free, she reached down and took it in her left, leaning her head on his right shoulder.

 _Even though I want to say "I'm sorry," I know he'll tell me not to,_ she thought. And so, she chose to say something else that was equally true, but less likely to be something to which he objected.

"I love you," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "More than anything."

He turned his head toward her now, where hers was leaned against his shoulder, and kissed a spot on the top, in the middle of her hair. "I love you, too," he told her. "And I need _you_ just as much as I need _air_. You may not believe it, but it's true. So…" She could feel him looking down at her, and she turned her head to look back up at him.

"So no more running away," she whispered, knowing that he'd been waiting for her to say it.

"Not even for my own good," he finished. "Okay?"

She nodded as she quickly looked away, feeling her face tighten and tears suddenly prickling at her eyes. Attempting to distract from the fact that she'd turned away to prevent him from seeing the anguish on her face and hoping that she'd done so before he could read her reaction, she picked up another dumpling in her right hand. After hesitated for a second, she turned back towards him. Reaching across herself, since her left hand was holding his right, she held it out to him in the palm of her right hand, avoiding his eyes by keeping hers on the dumpling. She was relieved when he reached across and took it in his left hand, keeping his right hand clasped in hers.

Letting her eyes drop again, she felt him squeeze her hand almost immediately. "You are more important than my own good, whatever that's supposed to be," he told her. "Even though that doesn't really make sense."

Without thinking about it to be able to stop herself, she started to say that thing that she wasn't supposed to say. "I'm s—" But that was as far as she got.

"Hey," he interrupted her quickly. "Let's get one thing straight here. I _know_ that. Okay? I told you, I don't want you to keep apologizing. This is not easy – hasn't been easy – for _either of us._ But it is going to be okay. And I know I keep saying it… but it's because it's true. We're both pretty stubborn, after all, and if we decide that it's going to be okay, then… well… it just _is_. Alright?" He paused to let his words sink in, then added uncertainly, "Unless you think… if you don't want to…" Just uttering those last words made him feel a little nauseous.

Her head was shaking against him before she even had time to process the thought – the mere suggestion of not having him around – completely. As her hand tightened in his, she inhaled sharply through her mouth.

Taking that as more than enough of a reply, he chuckled softly. "Okay, good, then I think we agree," he told her. "Okay?"

"Yeah," she whispered, picking her head up so that she could look at him. "Now let me see your ugly feet." He smiled broadly for a split second before pretending to be deeply offended, while she scooted back so that he could put his feet in her lap, as she'd done with him a little while before. She gently peeled off his wet socks, just as he'd done with hers, then carefully sprayed antiseptic on the raw spots before patting his feet dry as well. When she finally looked up, she found him watching her with the same smile that he'd always reserved for her and no one else, for as long as she could remember. The Just For Jane smile.

"Do you want anything else to eat?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine," she replied. She honestly wasn't hungry, and she also knew that they had a limited amount of food with them. He was watching her carefully, she noticed, as if he was trying to read whether she was telling him the truth. "I'll have some more later, I promise," she added. "It's a long way, after all." That last part finally made him acquiesce, and the skepticism faded from his face. Suddenly it occurred to her how endearing his behavior was, and she couldn't help but smile broadly.

He ate one more dumpling before wrapping them up again, storing them in his backpack and handing her the water once more. "Drink some more," he insisted, which she did before handing it back.

"Alright, now let's put some band aids on those feet," he told her. "Just maybe, we won't end up with bloody socks again." She shifted obediently to put her feet back in his lap and smiled when he rested his hands gently on her ankles for a few seconds before reaching for the band aids. He covered the spots that needed it, keeping a close eye on their quickly dwindling band aid supply and knowing that his feet weren't going to help matters one bit.

"We need to go easy on the bleeding, because we're going to run out of band aids if we're not careful," he remarked.

"Got it, no more bleeding," she replied, reluctantly moving her feet off of his lap and shifting so that she could take the band aids from him. Once she'd bandaged his feet, she looked at him, only now realizing one important potential flaw in their plan. "Um… _now_ the question is whether we have any dry socks to put on."

Kurt had just been thinking the same thing, and he grimaced. "Fingers crossed," he said with a shrug, digging into his bag to look. Jane pulled her smaller bag towards her and opened it apprehensively. The top fabric of the bag itself was wet. The clothes at the top – 2 shirts – were pretty wet, while the pair of pants below them were only damp. Getting down to the bottom of her bag, the 2 pairs of socks and 2 pairs of underwear there were… maybe not 100% dry, but only the slightest bit damp. Better than she'd feared but not quite as dry as she'd hoped.

She pulled out one pair of socks and found him looking at her, holding a pair of his. "So?" he asked. "How bad is it?"

"Not too bad, actually," she replied. "Slightly damp, but not horrible."

He nodded. "Mine are a little wet, but better that what I had on. The problem, of course, is how wet our _boots_ are…"

Groaning, she realized that she'd also completely overlooked the issue of the wet boots. They both moved carefully to the edge of the tarp to inspect the inside of their boots. Again, they weren't soaked, but they could have done with some drying time.

"I think they'll work for the afternoon," he said optimistically. At least, he _hoped_ their feet wouldn't end up soaked all over again. "And then we'll build a fire tonight, and hopefully they'll get a chance to dry." Jane nodded, having no better plan to propose. The two of them sat back and put on their only slightly damp socks. They now each had only 1 pair of clean and mostly dry socks left, and most of their three day trek to go. This was more than a little concerning, but neither of them said it aloud. They were also concerned about running out of food and water, so clean clothes weren't even the most important thing they had on their minds.

Once their boots were on again, the folded up the tarp, careful to fold the dirty side against itself to keep as much of the dirt as possible from touching anything in Kurt's backpack.

"Uh, before we go, I need to… pee," Jane said, slightly embarrassed.

"Yep, me too," he replied. They looked around at the wide open space they were currently standing in. There wasn't anything remotely resembling privacy. Yes, they were married, but even in the best of circumstances they still closed the bathroom door. "I don't think anyone else is going to happen along, so… pick a spot." He crossed his arms and faced off in one direction, away from her, making it clear that he would keep facing that way.

She grinned as she walked away from him. He could be so darn cute. A few minutes later she walked back over to stand beside him, bumping him playfully with her shoulder.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yep," she replied, surprised when he handed her a bottle of hand sanitizer.

"Oh, nice," she told him, surprised that he'd thought to have that along.

"I picked it up about halfway through this trip. Seemed like a good idea," he said with a smile. "I'll be right back," he added, disappearing behind her.

Once she finished rubbing the gel into her hands, she stood and stared out over the wide landscape in front of her. This was certainly somewhere she never would have expected to end up. It was a _long_ way from New York City and everything else she had known up until the moment she had left. And even with all the obstacles they faced in getting back home… being here at the end of the Earth had suddenly changed from feeling like a punishment that she'd inflicted upon herself to almost a vacation. Now that she was here with Kurt.

Speaking of Kurt, he walked back up beside her a moment later, and she held the bottle out upside down, ready to squeeze some gel on his palm. He held his hand up with a grin and she did just that, then rubbed his hands together quickly before he put it back in his backpack.

"Ready to get moving again?" he asked.

Her feet were now feeling very sore, and she still felt damp all over from the rain, but all things considered, she'd been _much_ worse before and survived. Besides, that was when he took her hand again, and she promptly forgot about anything that may have been bothering her.

"Ready," she replied.

"Oh, one more thing," he said suddenly, just as she'd taken a step forward. She turned back to look at him questioningly, and was surprised when his face was suddenly directly in front of hers. Pressing a kiss against her lips, he brought his free hand up to her face and cupped it against her cheek, letting their faces linger just another few seconds against each other.

"I'm glad you didn't forget _that_ ," she whispered when they drew apart.

"Never," he replied softly, touching his forehead against hers and then straightening up again. "Now let's go."

It was much easier to continue along the path now that they were re-energized, and that was exactly what they did. There was still a long way to go, after all, and only one way to get home, both literally and figuratively: moving forward.


	5. We Can Do This

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

They walked in silence once again, each of them aware of the other and yet thoughtful as they continued down the path. They'd managed to walk for several more hours – more slowly than they'd have liked thanks to growing soreness in their feet, but steadily – each of them squeezing the other's hand now and then as a reminder that they were still there. That would prompt them to glance up, smiling happily. Seeing each other smile was a novelty of which they both felt like they would never get enough.

The sun wasn't yet low, but it had moved noticeably across the sky, and the clouds that had brought them so much rain that morning had all but completely disappeared. It had turned into a sunny afternoon, and to their surprise, it was actually feeling rather hot. Kurt's watch told him that it was three o'clock, which explained why the heat had begun to feel so intense. Though they were both tired, they were also thankful that there were still at least a few hours left before the sun began to set, since they'd had several setbacks that day and needed to continue moving forward.

"We should stop for a minute," Kurt told her at one point.

Though of course it was something that they should have considered even when the weather was overcast, the realization that the sun had been beating down on them for a few hours had reminded him that if they weren't careful, they could end up with a pretty nasty sunburn – Jane especially, being fairer skinned than he was. When he stopped, she turned and looked at him curiously as he once again set down his pack in the grass alongside the path, now dried out by the sun from the morning's rain, and began rummaging around inside it. "What's up?" she asked, waiting for an explanation.

"A blast from the past," he replied cryptically, a slow grin creeping across his face. She wondered what he might mean by that, and continued to watch him with interest as he searched with great determination for something that seemed to be buried deep in his backpack. Finally, he stood back up triumphantly, holding a bottle of sunblock. "We both need this, but especially you," he told her. "You'll be bright red by the time we get off this mountain, otherwise, if the weather continues like this."

"You have _sunblock_ with you, too?" she asked, slightly awed. "Is there anything you _don't_ have in there?"

"Coffee," he lamented, answering far more quickly than she'd expected. She'd actually meant the question rhetorically, because _of course_ he had only the basics with him. "I can't take credit for most of it, though," he admitted. "I guess Patterson was worried about me running off to look for you with only the shirt on my back. That, and you know how she hates to sleep when there's a crisis… she made lists and did research like you can't believe. One of her first projects after you'd… _left_ …"

He faltered slightly on the word, but kept going, maintaining eye contact as they both watched the other flinch, but not look away. "…Was she made me this checklist – things to bring with me if I decided to trek to the end of the Earth in search of you. I think that was actually almost the title of the list, believe it or not," he told her with a chuckle. Stopping to think for a minute, he nodded. "Yep, the list was called, _Things To Bring When You Travel the World Searching For Jane_. And sunblock was on there." His smile faded then, thinking about their three friends who, for whatever reason, had gone missing not long before he'd taken matters into his own hands and left on the journey that had led him to her.

"We're going to find them," she promised softly, noticing his distress. He just nodded, moving his head faster than necessary to bring himself back to the present time.

"Yeah," he agreed quietly. Then, a smile slowly creeping back onto his face, he opened the cap of the sunblock. "Let's do this and then get moving again," he said. From the look on his face, it was clear that he was thinking of the same memory that she was – their weekend at the beach a few years back. When she just stood there watching him, he smiled and shook his head at her. "Turn around, please," he coaxed her, at which time she smiled right back at him and did as she was told. Before their beach weekend, she'd never thought of sunblock as something she _liked_ , but she had quickly changed her mind.

He squeezed a small amount into his hand – he hadn't packed a spray bottle, since he'd been going for the most efficient form of _everything_ in his packing – and rubbed his hands together. The sun had gotten hot as they'd walked, and she'd taken off her t-shirt a while back, leaving her now in a gray tank top. Her hair may have been much longer than it had been when he'd last seen her, but from what he could tell, a white t-shirt was apparently the only addition to her wardrobe. For Jane, simple had always been the key word. Though it wouldn't have mattered _what_ she'd worn, of course, he felt comforted by the fact that she still dressed the same way as she always had. He knew why she'd left, that she hadn't been trying to change – quite the opposite, she hadn't _wanted_ to change. Still, the familiar things about her were reassuring to him.

First, since there was now sunblock on most of his hands, he used his pinkie fingers, which had the least of it on them, to hook underneath the narrow fabric of her tank top that sat on her shoulders, also grabbing the straps of her sports bra underneath. He let the knuckle on each pinkie drag gently along her shoulder as he tugged the pieces of cloth slowly as far towards the outside of her shoulders as possible, giving himself more space to work – and if he was being honest, just enjoying the chance to see and to touch her bare skin.

This first task completed, he slowly and gently laid his hands on the top of her shoulders on either side of the base of her neck, letting them linger in one place for a few seconds while his thumbs fanned lightly across her skin. It wasn't exactly the same as the first time he'd applied sunblock to her, or any of the times he'd done it that weekend, but it was similar enough to evoke a very strong memory of a _very_ happy weekend. It had been so long ago, and yet it felt as though no time at all had passed.

She would have been lying if she'd said she wasn't enjoying this. After all, ever since she'd spent the weekend with him at that tiny little beach house where they'd been forced – well, maybe forced was the wrong word, though it had been a little awkward at first – to share a bedroom, sunblock had taken on a whole new meaning. After all, it had given them an excuse to let their hands explore each other's skin, which was a _lot_ more than had ever happened up to that point…

Just then, as she felt happiness rush through her at the memory, it was as though her body sent out an opposing force to stop that feeling. _You can't possibly think you deserve that kind of happiness,_ a voice in her head boomed. Doubt surged through her anew, and for a few seconds she wondered if that voice was right, if she _didn't_ deserve that happy memory.

He was standing behind her, watching her intently, his fingers pressed into her back and shoulders. Without her saying a word, and even though he was standing behind her, he could tell a lot about how she was feeling. He'd always been good at reading her, and he didn't seem to have lost his touch. Though he couldn't see it from behind her, he could tell that her smile had faded quickly. It wasn't because of what he was doing, he was fairly sure, but because of whatever was going on in her head. She'd tensed all over, standing rigidly as if expecting to be attacked. Had he been facing her, he would have seen that her smile had been replaced with a look of alarm. Still, he could see enough to know that her mind was taking her places she didn't want to be.

"Don't think, okay?" he whispered to her, leaning closer so that his breath tickled her cheek. He didn't move away, and his face was so close to hers that when her head tilted a few inches towards him instinctively, her cheek made contact with his. He continued to rub the sunblock into her skin, far more thoroughly than necessary, just as he had each time that weekend that they'd been at the beach. She didn't reply, but he felt her breath catch inside her, and he turned his head so that he could kiss her cheek, then closed the distance again to rest his forehead against her temple for several seconds. "It's going to be okay," he murmured, his hands still moving slightly on her neck and shoulders, but more for comfort than for spreading sunblock.

The fact that he obviously felt like he needed to keep saying that – and even more than that, the fact that he was _right_ , that that _was_ what she needed to hear, made her feel worse somehow. She tried not to overthink it, but in this situation, it seemed impossible. There was just _so much_ baggage, so many mistakes…

"Just think about that weekend at the beach," he whispered in her ear. "And how we ended up tricked by Sarah into sharing a room for the weekend. And how _happy_ we ended up being that she did that to us," he added softly. Little by little, he felt her relax. "That's better," he whispered beside her ear. With the thumb on his right hand, he began to trace the tattoo of the oil derrick that stuck out from beneath her tank top, moving the fabric down slightly to follow the lines, then gently moving back up, letting the fabric return to where it sat naturally.

Feeling herself blush slowly, she hoped that it was only her face that was turning pink, since he couldn't see that part of her as well at the moment. Instead, she tried to concentrate on the feel of his hands on her skin, and she told herself for the thousandth time that she'd been crazy to think that she could live without him. Her head dropped to her chest so that he had the best access to her neck, and she heard him chuckle behind her.

"I'm just trying to be helpful," she mumbled, then heard his chuckle become a laugh.

"So nice of you," he told her, and she could actually _feel_ his smile. Not only that, but she could hear it in his voice as it focused directly on her. He'd stopped to trace the lines of ink on her back, but now his hands flattened against her skin again, moving to her neck. This made her shiver, and she had a feeling that he felt it too. Finally, he tugged the straps back up onto her shoulders, letting his hands rest there for a few seconds.

"All done?" she asked, turning to look at him over her shoulder.

"Not quite," he replied, lifting his hands reluctantly, and squeezing more sunblock on his hand, rubbing it together with the other one again.

It seemed like he'd more than finished putting sunblock on her back, so she wasn't sure where else he intended to rub the lotion into. When she felt his hands on her shoulders, this time on the outside of her tank top straps, she looked over her shoulder at him again. She could have easily reached her own shoulders, after all. He began to run his hands down her arms, dragging slowly and rubbing sunblock around her arms as he went. She smiled at him, slightly confused but with no complaints.

"I could have done that part," she observed with a smile. "Though I certainly have no objections to what you're doing."

"Just because you _can_ do it doesn't mean you have to," he told her sincerely, finishing up the sunblock on her arms. "And that doesn't just go for sunblock, either," he added, kissing the back of her head as he finished her arms. He was conscious of the fact that they needed to keep walking, but this was important. Sunburn was one problem that they could avoid, after all. And besides, they both needed this connection as much as needed air and water and food. "Okay, turn around," he told her.

She did as he asked, now standing to face him, looking up into his eyes and smiling slowly. Picking up the sunblock bottle from where he'd dropped it by his feet, he squeezed a little more on his fingers and then left dots of it on her cheeks, forehead and chin before rubbing them in. She kept her eyes on him for as long as she could, but the feeling was so soothing that before he was done rubbing in the sunblock on her face, her eyes had closed on their own, against her will.

Watching the smile remain on her face, he knew that she was doing better. When his fingers had finished rubbing all of the sunblock into her face, he brought his hand to a stop against her cheek, feeling her immediately leaning into it. Her eyes opened then, and she beamed up at him.

"Your turn," she whispered. "Before we lose too much time." He nodded, handing her the sunblock that he was holding in his other hand and reluctantly letting the hand on her face fall back to his side. Now she repeated the process in reverse, starting with his face since he happened to be facing her already.

When she didn't let herself think, as he'd directed her, they could almost be back at that beach where she'd worn the red bikini. Where they'd been so happy.

 _Even that weekend wasn't all fun and games,_ the voice in her headed reminded her. There had been thoughts of Taylor, of self-doubt because of the tattoos, among other things. And yet, they'd not only gotten through it, but they'd had what they both remembered as a magical weekend, despite the bumps. Maybe that's what this would be as well. Maybe when they looked back, this would just be one of the bumps that didn't look as appalling as it did to her at that moment. He seemed so certain, after all…

"Alright, turn around," she told him, finished stroking his face with sunblock. As much as she'd liked to have done it all day, they needed to move. Earlier, he had been wearing a dark blue, casual button down shirt – a strange choice for a trek into the mountains, but a very Kurt Weller-esque one. A while back, however, he'd taken that layer off, just as Jane had, and was now wearing a plain white t-shirt. Knowing that the angle wasn't ideal for her to reach his neck, he lowered himself to kneel on the ground, hoping that the position wouldn't remind her of things that they'd both rather forget. After all, twice she'd been forced to her knees and told to put her hands behind her head. Once at the very beginning, by a man in a biohazard suit who'd thought the bag that she'd crawled out of had contained a bomb or contagion, and the second time by… _him_. Kurt. He had done that to her as well.

Still, there was no rock to sit down on, so he knelt on the ground, looking back up at her over his shoulder apologetically.

She knew that he was lowering himself towards the ground so that she could reach his neck better, but for a second she had just the flashback that he'd hoped she wouldn't – of herself kneeling on the ground in front of him as he handcuffed her roughly, refusing to listen to her pleas to let her explain. A chill ran through her before she could stop it, but that was when she noticed that he'd turned to watch her over his shoulder. The look on his face was apologetic, and he smiled at her sadly. She shook her head at him, smiling with some effort as she forced the painful memory to the back of her mind. It would always be there, but it didn't have to control her.

Squeezing a small amount of sunblock onto her hand, she let the bottle fall to the ground and rubbed her hands together, then worked the sunblock into the small amount of exposed skin inside the neckline of his shirt and up his neck. When she'd finished, she leaned forward and kissed the top of his head, something that he often did to her but that she normally wasn't tall enough to do in return.

He couldn't help but smile, admiring the strength he watched her display. The memory had clearly affected her, and yet as he watched, she pushed through it, smiling genuinely at him. She had won that battle, no matter how small. If nothing else, it was a starting point.

All too soon, she was finished rubbing sunblock on his neck and arms, and he stood up and dusted himself off, putting the sunblock away. "Sorry about the, uh…" he apologized awkwardly, glancing at the ground and then back at her, not wanting to actually say the words, but wanting her to know that he had made the connection to his kneeling on the ground as well.

Shaking her head dismissively, she managed a smile, inhaling deeply through her mouth and finding that she didn't have to work as hard as she'd expected to feel a sense of peace. Slowly, she was learning to be okay with the things that had happened, and it was like an epiphany. The rest would take a while, however, it gave her hope.

"If I'm not allowed to apologize, then you shouldn't be either," she told him, her smile increasing. "Unless you've done something new?" she teased him, raising her eyebrows playfully.

"Nope, don't think so," he replied, taking her hand again and tugging her forward, once again starting along the path.

"Alright, good to know," she said with a smile. "Then no more apologizing for things in the past. That goes for both of us." There was a decisive tone in her voice. He wasn't sure if she'd manage to follow this new rule she'd just made, but he liked the sound of it, anyway. It was something to shoot for.

"It's a deal," he said, stopping again even though they'd just started walking. Dropping her hand, he wrapped his arms around her and held on tightly. He wasn't sure where the urge had come from to do so at that moment, but he was powerless to resist it – not that he'd wanted to – and she hugged him right back. Too soon again, of course, they were stepping back from the embrace and once again simply holding hands, continuing along the path. He had already begun to consider that it would only be a few more hours before they needed to set up camp for the night. Though he wished they'd been able to get further on their first day trekking down the mountain, they had done their best. Now he just wanted to get to the point where he got to curl up with her for a few hours – the sooner the better.

 _Soon_ , he told himself, as they walked through the hot afternoon sunshine beside her, squeezing her hand slightly.

It felt like barely any time at all later when the sun was sinking into the distance behind the other side of the mountains and, since the light would be gone soon, they needed to start thinking about a camp for the night. Shelter was even too generous a word for what they would have, and they really just had to _hope_ that it didn't start raining again. Kurt didn't have a tent with him, but he had several tarps, which would have to do, and, thankfully, one dry sleeping bag – it had been inside a tightly closed waterproof bag.

Once they'd found a place to make camp for the night, lamenting the lack of trees to be able to use one of the tarps to create any semblance of shelter against any further possible rain, they went about setting things up as quickly as they could. Laying out the same tarp that they'd sat on earlier, they put down their heavy packs but did not sit down, knowing that they wouldn't want to get back up again any time soon. They'd walked straight through the afternoon with barely any stops, knowing that they needed to make up for lost time, and they were feeling the effects of the exertion.

He pulled out the sleeping bag and set it in the middle of the tarp, curious to see her reaction.

"Did you bring one of those for me, too?" she called jokingly as she collected rocks nearby to make a circle around the campfire that they would build.

"Sorry," he replied, shaking his head. "What you see is what we have. But, uh…" he suddenly felt awkward, but was determined to say it anyway. "You can take it." He walked over to where she was picking up rocks, and she put what ones she'd collected on the ground and stood up.

"If you think that I'm going to let you freeze out here in the night air, you're mistaken," she told him. "Besides, I happen to know that we can share one of those just fine." She stood in front of him with her hands on her hips, grinning, and his uncertainty disappeared. Sometimes, like now, he had to remind himself that she hadn't left him because he'd done something wrong, but because she'd wanted to protect him. There was a lot of baggage between them but when it came down to it, they loved each other. He hadn't known for so long why she'd left, his mind had gone through every frightening possibility and it was hard to deprogram himself now and forget them all.

 _Of course she remembers,_ he thought, a smile working its way across his face. _Sharing a sleeping bag shouldn't be something you forget… unless of course someone wipes your memory._

"Oh, you think we can share, then?" he asked with a smile. Despite his relief at her words, his tone was still uncertain. He laid his hands lightly on her biceps and then let them skim slowly down her arms, stopping at her wrists, and just stood there looking at her.

"I know we can," she replied. "If it's okay with you."

He scoffed slightly, but the sound came out less as the laugh that he'd intended it to, his face momentarily reflecting the strain of the past months. He regained his composure quickly, however, pulling his mouth into a slightly strained smile and nodding, slowly leaning closer to her. "It's more than okay with me," he whispered, seeing her face soften with emotion as well before she simply laid her head against his chest, then nodded against him.

Letting go of her wrists, his arms wound around her back, pulling her into a tight hug. He felt like he should say something, but he got the feeling that as they stood there simply leaning into each other and breathing in sync, her arms now around him gently as well, they were saying all that needed to be said just then.

However, they weren't done setting up their camp. Leaning back, he kissed her on the forehead and mumbled, "Let's finish setting up camp, and then we can rest, okay?" Once again, she just nodded, and they let their arms drop, kneeling down to make a large enough circle of rocks for their campfire. Jane hadn't quite gathered enough yet, so they took a few more minutes to scout the immediate area, bringing back rocks as well as what brush they could find. Luckily, there was a cluster of bushes that appeared to have been killed by a drought, and they broke pieces off of them, carrying as many as they could.

Back at their "camp," they filled in the rest of the circle of rocks and built up a decent pile of sticks and twigs – calling it _firewood_ would have been a little too generous – to get their fire started, laying out the extras off to the side a safe distance away.

"We should go back and collect more branches for later," Kurt suggested. Despite how much she was looking forward to sitting down, Jane agreed. Otherwise, they would either have to deal with a dying fire or a search in the dark, neither of which were good options.

Nodding in agreement, she simply reached out for his hand. Only after he took hers did she move, however. She could feel her strength draining out of her, but she could draw from his.

Between the two of them they amassed an impressive pile of kindling keep the fire going later, setting it with the rest of the extra they'd already collected. The next order of business was to take out the second tarp that Kurt had, folded up very small, in his backpack. When spread out, however, it was very large. After spreading it out to its full size, they removed their wet clothes from their backpacks, laying them all out in the hopes that they would dry. Unless it rained, they couldn't get _wetter,_ at least.

Next, Kurt lit the fire, so that just as the light was beginning to fade around them, the campfire gave them light and warmth. Hopefully, it would also help their things dry, as well.

"We should let our boots sit out and dry the rest of the way," Jane suggested as they finally sat down on the tarp beside the sleeping bag. Once they took them off, however, they found that their socks, now slightly wet from the dampness of their boots, made their feet cold. In order to let those dry out as well, they removed their socks and added them to the tarp full of items that were drying by the fire. Sitting down next to the sleeping bag, they both realized just how sore their feet were from the day's punishing walk, covered in blisters. Despite how much they hurt, Jane was so exhausted all over that she managed to ignore her feet, at least for the time being.

"Let's get something to eat, and then we should get some rest," Kurt said, thinking aloud, as he took the food out of his backpack along with a bottle of water. "Besides, it's starting to get chilly, and the sleeping bag is probably the only warm and dry thing we have." They shared a knowing look, both familiar with the fact that _they_ would be the heat source and the sleeping bag would be keeping the heat in. It was anything but an unpleasant thought, it was just… well, their sleeping conditions weren't exactly conducive to easing back into things between them.

There were a few dumplings left, enough for each of them to have two and to split a third one. It wasn't a lot of food, but it was something, and they hesitated to open the next wrapped bundle that the monks had given them, not wanting to exhaust their food supply too fast. They hadn't gotten as far that day as they should have, and they needed their food to last at least until they reached the village at the base of the mountain.

They ate in silence, looking into the fire and occasionally glancing at each other and smiling, passing the water bottle back and forth. When they were finished, they brushed their teeth, and then took turns disappearing out of the other's view for a few minutes before coming back to double check that they had all of their wet things laid out on the tarp that needed to be there, their backpacks at the edge closest to the fire since they had absorbed the brunt of the rain.

"That just leaves what we're wearing," Kurt observed, and Jane swore he was grinning just a little. Her shirt had dried but the rest of her clothes did still feel the slightest bit soggy, she had to admit…

Taking a step toward him but stopping about a foot away, she looked up at him, pretending to narrow her eyes accusingly although they were sparkling happily. "Is that your way of getting me to take my clothes off? So that they can _dry_?" she asked him, trying not to laugh.

"Hey, I just know that wet clothes get cold, and we need to stay warm," he replied innocently, holding up his hands in front of him in surrender. "Better safe than sorry." She chuckled, shaking her head at him, and watching as he began to pull off his t-shirt. "You wear whatever you want," he told her. From the look on his face, she could see that he meant it sincerely. That was one of the many things that she loved about him – as much as he loved to joke, he always seemed to know when to be serious, as well.

However, as much as it may or may not have been a ploy to get her partially naked, he wasn't _wrong_ about their clothes needing to dry. And so what if he _had been_ making up the excuse – which he wasn't, anyway. They were married, not strangers, and certainly closer now than the first time they'd shared a sleeping bag with only some of their clothes on.

Shaking her head at the situation, and at him, she turned around and slowly and very self-consciously began removing her clothes, laying them out on the second tarp as well. When she'd finished and turned around to find him already lying in the sleeping bag, the firelight throwing shadows in the falling darkness, the only thing she was wearing was the oversized white t-shirt she'd had on earlier. It had dried in the sun already, and she'd actually taken it back out to put it on, not quite feeling right standing there in _nothing_.

Since she'd been turned around while he'd gotten undressed and climbed into the sleeping bag, she had no idea what he'd ended up wearing, if anything, so her level of anticipation rose slightly. _Not_ that it wasn't perfectly fine if he _was_ completely naked. It wasn't as though it had never happened before, of course. It just wasn't exactly an everyday situation, and there was still quite a bit of awkwardness between them. It had just been a very, very long time.

Turning away from the fire beside them, Jane looked down at him, already lying inside the sleeping bag, which was unzipped down to just above where she imagined his knees to be, with the flap closed. She stepped across the small space between the two tarps, and walked toward the sleeping bag slowly, feeling herself pulled in by his smile as if by magnetic force, but at the same time hesitating, moving more slowly the closer she got to him.

Kneeling on the tarp beside the sleeping bag, she watched him as he smiled back at her. There was a hint of teasing, but there was also a softness and love in the look he was giving her. She knew that look, she realized. It was the Just For Jane smile, the one that told her without words that he loved her. Her eyes darted down and then back up to his nervously, now simply kneeling beside the sleeping bag and not sure what to do next.

Shifting slightly, he reached his right hand toward her, resting it lightly on her bare knee and watching her focus on his fingers uncertainly. "I'm not going to bite, I promise," he told her softly, trying to lighten the suddenly tense situation with humor. Laughing nervously, she smiled and looked back up into his eyes, feeling slightly better but still unsure. As she watched, he pushed himself up onto his side and scooted back slightly, but as far as the sleeping bag would allow, then pushed back the flap of the sleeping bag. Patting the empty space that he'd created, he was still looking at her with that expression that said everything she needed to hear before he'd opened his mouth. "Your spot's right here," he told her. She couldn't help but notice with a quick glance that like her, he had taken off _nearly_ , though not quite everything. The one item he'd kept on were his boxers.

Her smile slowly spread across her face at his words, and she moved forward towards him, trying to remember how she'd done this years ago – getting into the same sleeping bag. She remembered that it hadn't been easy, and that it had just taken some getting used to. Very slowly, she managed to get her feet inside, and then laid herself down with little if any space between them, propping herself up on her right elbow just as he was doing on his left, their faces only inches apart. As if in slow motion, he reached his right arm slowly and carefully over her, somehow finding the zipper that seemed out of his reach as he leaned carefully against her, pulling the sleeping back closed inch by slow inch.

"We need to preserve all the heat we can, and keep out as many bugs as possible," he told her when he leaned back slightly.

"Which are absolutely true, but I don't think they're the reasons why you wanted to do that," she said teasingly.

"Busted," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he grinned at her. Yet again as he stared at her, so close in front of him, he was overwhelmed.

 _I got Jane back_.

It was the only thing he'd wanted for so long, there were moments where the reality of the situation overwhelmed him and just looking at her was enough to overload his senses.

They were now zipped in together, with almost no space in between them, and she simply smiled back at him as she looked into his eyes. He was looking at her just as intensely, if not more so, and for a few minutes neither of them spoke, content to just look at each other. His right hand rested in between them, as did her left, but their hands were not touching each other. It was as though now that they were there, so very close together, neither of them were quite certain what the other wanted, and both of them were too hesitant to ask or to guess.

Ever so slowly, his right hand reached out to cover her left, and he watched as she inhaled a deep, shaky breath, but didn't pull away. He kept his hand over hers, watching her closely for signs of discomfort, ready to let go if she flinched. She was breathing very deliberately now, he noticed, as though, if she didn't concentrate, she might forget to do so at all. Once again moving slowly, he curled his fingers around her hand and tugged it toward him, lifting it slowly and pressing it against his chest. Together, their hands sat over his heart, his hand still covering hers. The gesture did not require explanation, of course. All by itself, it took them both back to the beginning, whispering in her ears.

 _Keep breathing, Jane._

 _You're my starting point_.

She still felt it, every bit of the emotion that she'd expected to as she'd laid down next to him, and even more, if that was possible. Managing to keep her breathing steady, she felt her heart racing in her chest. They had been here – well, not _here_ in Tibet, but here as in _this close together_ – many times before, and yet even so… it felt completely new. Deciding not to complicate things by thinking of the past, she made a conscious effort to focus _only_ on that moment, and on the feeling of his heartbeat beneath her hand. It seemed to race just as fast as hers, she noticed, and she couldn't help but smile.

"It's going to be okay, Jane," she heard him say, and looked at him in surprise. After all, she'd just been saying the exact same thing inside her head, so it felt more than a little strange to hear it coming from his lips at the same time. It shouldn't have, however. They'd had that kind of a connection almost from the beginning.

When her mouth curled into a smile, he couldn't help but feel relief flooding his veins. Just then it was as though every tiny movement or expression of hers was of critical importance – even more so than they had ever been before.

She nodded ever so slightly in agreement, wanting to believe that it was going to be okay. After all, she _felt_ better, safer, here with him. It was tempting to believe that there was nothing they couldn't face together… Hadn't they made it this far, after all?

Her thoughts attempted to go back six months, to when she'd decided to leave in order to keep him safe. She said nothing, didn't even feel as though her breathing had changed, but it must have somehow shown on her face, she decided, because Kurt shook his head slowly, closing his fingers around hers just a little tighter, and leaned forward slowly to kiss her forehead. Once again, after the slow, sweet kiss was finished, he kept his forehead leaned against hers at her hairline, feeling her lean right back against his as well.

 _We can do this_ , she thought in awe. It was terrifying to let herself believe it, but what if it was the truth?

It wasn't yet late, but already the light was almost completely gone, and she was glad that they'd set up camp when they had. After the intense and exhausting day they'd had, it wouldn't have surprised her if she'd fallen asleep immediately, despite how badly she normally slept. However, lying there beside him and looking into his eyes, she felt completely awake. Now deciding to give her shoulder a rest, she folded her arm back and leaned down so that she was using her elbow as a pillow, looking up at him.

Mirroring her movement only a few seconds later, he folded his arm behind him and laid down against his own elbow, as well, wanting to keep his face at the same level as hers. He wanted to be absolutely as close to her as possible. After just a few seconds, with only the light and the slight noise of the crackling fire, he lifted his head just enough to be able to move closer to her, ever so slowly, keeping his eyes on hers for signs of distress, but finding none.

She watched him moving towards her as if in slow motion. Despite the short distance, he was moving so slowly that it was several seconds before he stopped, about as close as he could be to her without touching her. He lasted a second there before closing the rest of the almost invisible distance between them, touching the tip of his nose to the tip of hers. Still watching her despite how close together they were, he looked for signs of hesitation or discomfort, but found none. "Just stop me if—" He'd been going to tell her to stop him if she was uncomfortable, but instead found the _she'd_ closed the rest of the distance between their lips and was kissing him, slowly and tenderly, her hand sliding off of his heart and up to his shoulder.

There had been times when things had moved quickly between them, but this was not one of them. Just then, they both felt the need to take things as slowly as possible, savoring every second. It was "fast" enough that they'd ended up in the sleeping bag together almost completely naked, out of sheer logistical necessity, when their emotions were still so raw. Still, it didn't take too long before their one item of clothing each was one too many, and they had to wiggle creatively to find the space to remove them.

"Just don't toss my shirt onto the fire, please," she whispered, to his amusement.

"It doesn't really suit you anyway…" he teased. "You don't usually wear baggy shirts."

"Very funny," she growled as he pretended to consider which way to toss her shirt. "I don't have all that many shirts to start with." Reaching across him, she snagged it from him and threw in onto the tarp, where it landed beside the rest of her clothes. Having taken care of that problem, she looked down and now found herself draped halfway over him, which made her blush. And yet, she didn't move away. If anything, she slowly moved closer.

He had missed everything about her, even the things she did that frustrated him, but as they bantered back and forth in between kisses, he couldn't help but feel an ache over how very _much_ he had missed it all. She'd pushed herself partway over him in order to grab and then toss away her shirt, which he had decidedly _not_ been about to throw on the fire, of course… but if it worked as an excuse to get her this close to him, then it worked for him.

Now they stared into each other's eyes yet again – it felt as though they'd been doing that a lot since he'd arrived in the tent where he'd found her – his chest aching with how very much he'd missed her and literally nothing, not even cloth, between them any longer. For a second, time stood still as they smiled at each other knowingly, and after that things began moving more quickly between them, as, without a word, they made up for lost time.

Later, as the fire crackled beside them, she laid against his shoulder, her eyes closed, focusing on the random lines that he was drawing on her back with his fingers. She liked when he traced the lines of ink, but she liked it just as much when he simply skimmed his fingers over her skin without looking at the lines, the way he was now.

"Are you warm enough?" he whispered.

She just nodded against him. "Mmmhhhmmmmm," she mumbled contentedly. "I have my own personal furnace." He chuckled then, tugging her to him a little tighter.

"Good," he said with satisfaction. "And now we need to sleep. We have another big day of walking tomorrow. There's still a long way to go."

"Mmmhhhmmmmm," she said again, feeling herself already drifting off to sleep, happier than she had felt in at least six months, or maybe, she couldn't help but think, happier than she had ever been. And then, before her brain shut down completely, she whispered in a voice slightly slurred with sleep, "I love you." She couldn't help but smile when his arms tightened around her and his face pressed into her hair, kissing her on the top of her head.

"I love you, too, Jane," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. "So much. Now go to sleep. No one's going anywhere." She just nodded against him, feeling exhaustion finally overpowering her and in a few more seconds, she gave in to sleep.

Though he was also very tired, Kurt held on just a little longer. He took in the novelty of every bit of where they were and how close together they were. For a while, after they'd thought that Jane was Taylor, he'd let himself believe in miracles, but that belief had been crushed when his father had died, admitting his darkest secret. The fact that Bill Weller had killed Taylor Shaw had shattered Kurt, and for a long time he hadn't believed in _anything_. Now he couldn't help but believe in them once more, because how in the world was there any other explanation for the fact that this was happening – that he had found her, and that they were not too broken, after everything, after all?

Pulling her closer, he, too fell asleep.

The next morning dawned clear and bright, and though they'd had illusions about being up to begin walking before the sun rose, the sky was already bright before they even woke up. Kurt woke up first, but realizing that Jane was still asleep, he kept himself still. Though he could have easily have gone back to sleep, it wouldn't be an option at least until they were back in civilization, if not at home, so his mind did not even consider the possibility.

He wanted to stretch, and to put more sticks on the fire which had nearly gone out completely, so that they would be warmer as they got up and got ready to continue on. However, he couldn't bring himself to move as long as Jane slept so peacefully against him. He knew that he should wake her up, but he let himself watch her for just a little longer. It had been so long since he'd had the opportunity to do so, after all.

The sun was rising already, she could tell, even before she opened her eyes. The other thing she knew was that she was inside Kurt's sleeping bag, her arm draped across him and her head on his shoulder, his arm pulled around her back. She could not get over how very much she had missed this, and she couldn't help but smile as her chest ached with happiness. Though she had yet to open her eyes, she felt him shift slightly and she could tell that he knew she was awake.

"Good morning," he whispered. "Sorry there's no coffee today."

She smiled broadly then, finally opening her eyes and blinking as they adjusted to the light. "Good morning," she said softly, still in awe that she could actually talk to him, and that he wasn't a figment of her imagination or a voice in her head. The fact that she didn't just have to rely on her collection of memories of him, all of which had hurt to remember, was simply too good to be true. "Coffee would be _great_ … But I have something even better." When he raised his eyebrows curiously and pretended not to know what she was talking about, she gave him a playful punch. " _You_ of course _,_ silly."

"Better than coffee?" he asked in mock surprise. "Wow… I'm moving up in the world."

"Haha," she replied, leaning up for a peck on the lips and then just looking into his eyes, taking a moment to appreciate the feeling of their bare skin lying against each other as his fingers moved slightly against her back, as if he wasn't sure that she wanted to be reminded that they'd taken off their clothes. She noticed that when she smiled at him in response to the slight motion, he moved his hand a little more, smiling back.

Having thought that she wouldn't ever see him again, _everything_ , down to the slightest touch or the quickest glance from himwas now like an extra special gift that she had never expected.

As his fingers danced across her back, she closed her eyes again, suddenly overwhelmed by a swell of emotion. She felt tears threatening to fall, and for a second, she couldn't quite breathe properly. It was as though her insides were shaking, overcome by her feelings.

Biting her lip, she struggled through the moment, knowing the he was watching her with concern and therefore not surprised when he pulled her a little closer. "Sssshhhhh," he whispered, even though the most noise she'd made had been a swift intake of breath, which had hardly made a sound. It was more about quieting her mind than anything else. After all, he knew her better than she even knew herself sometimes, and it was plain to him that she was overcome. He felt it, too. His right hand moved up her back to the back of her neck, his fingers circling soothingly against her skin, his left arm pulling tighter around her back.

It was now the second day that he'd woken up with her, but in some ways it was like a new beginning. That first night, they'd simply fallen asleep where they were – they'd just happened to have been sitting on her bed at the time and had succumbed to exhaustion. This time, they had very deliberately chosen where and how they had slept, and had chosen to remove what little clothing they'd had on. While it had been a partially rational decision to let their clothes dry, in the end it had been an emotional one, as well.

She had shifted position and her left ear was now pressed against his chest, just over his heart, and she focused on the steady thu-thump, feeling a sense of calm as it slowly began to steady her again. His left cheek was pressed against her temple, the thick scruff there that had grown there during his long journey to find her pressing against her skin. It just made him that much more real to her. After a minute or so her breathing normalized again, and she felt a little steadier. Even knowing that she would have to sooner than later, she really didn't want to think about moving from the spot where she was.

There were a million things to say, and yet no words that properly expressed how either of them were feeling. Instead, they simply clung to each other anew, as though there was some danger of their being separated if they didn't. Turning to press his face against her skin, he pressed a kiss against her temple. "We need to get up," he whispered. Her only reply was to hold on tighter to him. While he agreed completely with the sentiment, it just wasn't a luxury that they had that day. "I know," he told her, his face leaned against her skin. "But we have to go. Don't worry, you're certainly not going to be going anywhere without me anytime soon."

"I know, I just…" She hadn't spoken for a little while, and she was annoyed to hear her voice breaking, despite having thought that she had calmed down.

"I know," he assured her soothingly. "Just keep breathing." They both smiled at the reference to so long ago, staring intensely into each other's eyes as he traced his fingers across her skin. "Five more minutes," he told her, and she nodded silently in agreement. No matter how long he'd suggested, it never would have been enough.

She intended to spend every second of those five minutes – not that they could exactly time it, since both of their phones were out of reach and possibly out of batteries by now – looking at him. After all, she had to make up for a lot of lost time.


	6. Ready As I'll Ever Be

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

 _A/N: I apologize for the longer than usual break between chapters. My book is going ahead at full speed, and I was on vacation for a week and just got back. I haven't abandoned anything, it's just that having four projects going at once is a bit of a balancing act. As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading!_

It had probably been more than five minutes, but it felt like no time at all. Kurt turned slightly and kissed her forehead before mumbling, "Alright, time to get up." She felt both the arm around her back and the hand on the back of her neck loosen reluctantly, and she couldn't help but sigh.

"I didn't agree to this," she grumbled.

He couldn't help but think how cute she was, even when she was grumbling, and he knew that she was at least partially joking. "Agree to what?" he asked, moving his cheek along her skin.

For a second she thought a little too hard, thinking about _all_ of the things to which she hadn't agreed. But that hadn't been the way she'd meant it, and she forced all of the extra thoughts from her mind. Suddenly realizing that he was watching her carefully, she looked up to see worry in his eyes, and smiled at him. She had known for a long time that he cared about her, but it always took her breath away to see that look in his eyes – the look that told her just _how much_ he cared.

"I didn't agree to this whole morning thing," she replied with a smile. Chuckling, he brushed a hand against her cheek before slowly and carefully reaching out of the sleeping bag, behind her, to begin tugging at the zipper. While he did, she glanced in the other direction to where her white t-shirt had been flung, far out of her reach from her current position. The early morning air felt chilly on her face, and she had a feeling that they were about to be shocked into motion by the cold.

Kurt slowly tugged at the zipper, which involved moving even closer to Jane, who lay in between him and that edge of the sleeping bag. He certainly had no complaints about having to press against her, tightening his hold on her with his other hand on her back once more. Once he had tugged the zipper about three quarters of the way down, he let go of it and slowly moved back up to the position in which he'd woken up, once again loosening his hold on her back.

"It's going to get a little chilly in a second. You're probably going to want to jump up and go grab your clothes, before you get too cold. I know that's _my_ plan – well, to jump up and get _my_ clothes, not yours," he added, watching her smile at his words.

"Okay," she told him, tensing in anticipation. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"One, two… three!" he called, flinging back the edge of the sleeping bag as if ripping off a band aid, feeling like if he did it faster it would hurt less. Jane squealed slightly at the sudden rush of cold air, rolling away from him enough to have space to push herself up to stand and jump as quickly as she could towards her clothes, grabbing one item at a time and throwing them on. Despite the cold, he lay there watching her for a few seconds, mesmerized. It had been far too long since he'd had the chance to watch her get dressed.

Before she was finished, however, he realized that he, too, was more than just a little cold, and pushed himself up as well, moving quickly towards his own clothes and pulling them on as fast as he could. Once the initial shock of the cold had been forgotten, he realized that the smile on her face was gone, her lips now forming a tight line.

"What's wrong, Jane?" he asked.

She sat back down, now well covered with the exception of her feet, at which she was staring accusingly, holding her socks in one hand but not putting them on. "Those blisters," she began, looking up at him, "I don't know what they look like under these band aids, but they hurt like _hell_. And I know we don't have extras, so I feel like I should leave them on for now…"

"Probably should," he agreed with a nod. His feet were pretty sore as well, he realized, but she looked like she was in serious pain.

"You don't have any painkillers in that super bag of yours, do you?" she asked jokingly. While he didn't necessarily remember packing the bag, having been slightly frantic at the time, he did remember that painkillers had been on Patterson's packing list, so he decided that they were probably in there somewhere. After all, he'd made sure to pack everything Patterson had recommended.

"I should," he replied, retrieving his pack from the other tarp and sitting down beside her. With the clothes taken out, it was easier to look through his bag, and he found them without too much trouble. He put two pills into her hand, also handing her a half full water bottle. "There you go."

"Thanks. Your feet don't hurt?" she asked in surprise after quickly downing the pills.

"Yes, but they're not _that_ bad," he said, still watching her. "But I suppose I should take some preemptively. We've got another rough day ahead of us." After he'd swallowed two pills and stowed the bottle in his pack once more, he looked at the spot where last night's campfire had burned out. What he wouldn't do for there to be a fire there just then, because he was still feeling the chill of the morning air.

As if reading his mind, she reached over and squeezed his hand. He noticed that her skin felt cold against his, and he looked at her in surprise. "Your hand is freezing. Are you warm enough?" he asked.

"I'm wearing at least three layers," she replied between clenched teeth. "I'll be fine. I'll warm up as soon as we start moving." With one more glance at her feet, she began gingerly pulling on her socks, the look on her face telling him that even just the contact with the cotton was hurting them. He quickly tied up his own boots and then stood up, watching her move as if in slow motion.

As much as he hated that she seemed to be in pain, there wasn't anything he could do about it just then. After all, they _had_ to keep moving. Being stuck on this mountain when food and water supplies ran out became a greater and greater possibility the slower they moved, and he could only assume from the pain she seemed to be in that they were _not_ going to be making up the time that they'd already lost. In fact, it seemed likely that they'd be losing quite a bit more time that day.

Instead, while she struggled with her boots, be began organizing their now relatively dry clothes, into piles. Neither of them had very much, and he had quickly gathered it all. He pushed his pile back into his backpack, then grabbed her backpack and did the same for hers. She had moved off of the sleeping bag onto the tarp, and he rolled up the sleeping bag, finishing just as she stood up with a low moan. She looked as if she was looking for something to hold onto.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, dropping the backpack to step quickly over to where she was standing and catching her around the waist just before she lost her balance. "Your feet hurt that badly?"

"Yeah," she replied through clenched teeth. "They were fine until I stood up the first time. But how the hell are we going to get down the mountain if I can't even stand up without my feet feeling like they're on fire?"

Secretly, he worried about the same thing, but he opted for calm. If there was one thing he didn't want her doing, it was worrying any more than she already was. They _were_ going to make it, after all. He hadn't traveled to the ends of the Earth to find her just to have them not make it back home. As hard as this ordeal was, he couldn't help but think that the hard part – finding her – was over. They'd overcome greater odds in the past, after all – hadn't they?

"Hey, it's going to be _fine,_ " he told her soothingly. "Sit back down for a second while I finish getting everything together." She nodded and sat back down on the tarp that their sleeping bag had been on a minute before, watching him worriedly without a word. He joined her shortly thereafter, and after eating just a little more from their dwindling food supply and brushing their teeth, rinsing their toothpaste out with as little of their dwindling water supply as possible, the only thing that remained was for them to be on their way.

Kurt stood up first and then helped her up slowly. "Let me just get that tarp, okay?" he asked, hoping she could stand on her own for long enough for him to put it away. A minute later, he was back by her side, helping her balance as he lifted his backpack carefully onto his back.

"Would you hand me my bag, please?" she asked, not wanting to bend down if it wasn't necessary.

"I got it, don't worry," he assured her.

"Kurt, don't be ridiculous," he told her. "You're already carrying most of the gear in the big bag, plus your smaller backpack. Just hand it to me. I can carry it."

Though he was more than willing to carry it himself, he relented, knowing that she couldn't stand situations like this, where she had no control. Once the bag situation was figured out, he wrapped his left arm around her waist so that she could lean against him. Her right arm was braced tightly across his back, and they began walking slowly, tentatively.

 _It would be one thing is_ _ **one**_ _foot hurt,_ she thought, _but both of them?_

She tried not to think about it, but it wasn't easy to think of anything _else_. When she glanced up at him, the movement made him look down at her. She did her best to force a smile, even knowing that he wouldn't be fooled.

"Hang in there, okay?" he told her quietly, and she just nodded, saying nothing. Most of her focus was on not wincing when her feet touched the ground, which took intense concentration. He'd toyed with the idea of carrying her, and hadn't ruled it out, even though he knew that it wasn't something that he could do for the rest of the way down the mountain. It remained an option if things got worse, however.

They continued to make slow progress for almost two hours, but their pace had lessened substantially from even their initial unhurried speed. "We need to stop for a few minutes," he told her, pulling her to a stop. She made no attempt to argue, having fought valiantly for the past two hours to keep walking despite how much pain she was in. In under a minute he had the tarp open on the ground again, spreading it all the way out so that none of the clean area would come in contact with the dirt below, as it would have if it had been folded.

He took the backpack from her, setting it down within arm's reach so that he could continue to help hold her up, and then helped her lower herself onto the tarp. There she quickly reclined until she was laying on her back, and by the time he had set his own gear down, her eyes were closed. Lying on his side beside her, his left elbow propped up against the ground to support himself, he looked at her with concern. Her right hand rested on her stomach, and he reached for it with his right hand, clasping his fingers around hers and squeezing gently.

"Hey," he whispered. "Are you okay?" As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt ridiculous. Of course she wasn't okay. Neither of them were, really, but especially her.

"I'm fine," she replied quickly, automatically. She hadn't even thought about it, simply uttered the words in response to his question. It made her realize just how completely she had programmed herself to believe that she was fine, even when it was blatantly obvious that in reality, she wasn't.

 _But dwelling on what's not okay wouldn't do any good,_ she rationalized.

Through the hand resting on her stomach he felt the change in her breathing as soon as she insisted she was fine. She was taking deep breaths, as if she was anything but fine.

"Jane," he murmured in a low voice. When she opened her eyes, he realized that he'd needed the reassurance of looking into hers just as much as she might have needed the reassurance of looking into _his_. Even though her expression was full of worry, just the fact that he _could_ look into her eyes helped to steady him. After all, she was there in front of him, not a figment of his imagination as she'd had to be for so long.

As she watched him with a worried expression, he smiled back at her. "Everything's going to be okay," he whispered.

"You can't know that," she murmured, to his surprise. "We don't exactly have a great track record."

"Actually, I'd argue the opposite," he told her. "If anything, the fact that we're alive at all shows just how lucky we are. Think about it… the number of times one or both of us almost died."

"Are you sure you want to tempt fate with a statement like that?" she asked him uneasily.

"I'm getting us home, we're going to find Patterson, Zapata and Reade, and then we're going to curl up and sleep for a week," he told her.

"Mmmmmm," she mumbled, closing her eyes again as a hint of a smile crossed her lips for the first time since she'd first stood up that morning. "Sounds good." Then, after inhaling slowly and deeply, she opened her eyes again and, with a new resolve, told him, "Come on, let's get going."

"You sure?" he asked uncertainly. They hadn't been resting very long, after all.

"We're not going to get home if we lie here," she replied.

"No," he agreed slowly, "But I don't want you to push yourself too hard."

"Kurt," she said, a little more forcefully than even she'd expected. "We're going to run out of food and water in a few days, aren't we?"

"Well, it's a possibility…" he admitted. "We just have to make it to the village at the bottom of the mountain."

"Exactly. I've already slowed us down enough. So we need to get going."

There was no arguing with the look on her face, he already knew. Besides that, her logic was correct – running out of food and/or water would both be very bad, but at the pace they were going, that's exactly what was going to happen. Despite how grim things looked, he couldn't help but smile at her then. After all, her determination was one of the many things that he loved about her.

He stood up, turned around in front of her and helped her up as well. Once her backpack was on her back, she held onto him tightly for support on her aching feet while he quickly folded the tarp back up and settled their remaining belongings on his back. Now ready to move once again, he wrapped an arm tightly around the middle of her, watching her flinch with every step. He would've given anything to have the luxury of letting her rest longer.

"Did I ever tell you about the time Taylor broke her ankle?" he asked as they moved slowly forward. He hated that he could feel exactly how much each step was hurting Jane because their arms were wrapped so tightly around each other's sides. The only slightly positive aspect he could find in all this was that she had a reason to lean on him heavily. About that, he certainly had no complaints.

"No," she replied through clenched teeth. There had been a long time when he wouldn't have voluntarily have brought up Taylor under any circumstances, considering how everything had unraveled around the long since dead girl in their past, but thankfully, those days were over. It had been a relief when they'd gradually started to be able to talk about her again, though it had taken a long time. She knew that right now he was bringing her up as a distraction, but that was fine with her. Hearing stories from his past was a treat, and she only wished that she had some with which she could reciprocate.

"She'd been running after me, as usual," he explained, smiling at the memory and at the same time, unconsciously pulling Jane closer. It didn't matter that she wasn't Taylor and that they both knew it. She was so closely associated with Taylor in his mind, because of the way everything had gone, that in a way, she almost was. One reminded him of the other, for better or worse.

This connection been Jane and Taylor in his mind had stung viciously at first, but now it had become quite the opposite. For every ounce of pain that came from thinking of Taylor, thinking of Jane was a balm that removed the sting. They were almost like two sides of a coin, despite not being the same person and having been separated by twenty-five years. It didn't make sense, and yet at the same time it made perfect sense.

"I must have been farther up the street and she was trying to catch up with me… I can't remember now," he told her, thinking back to that day. "She was running full out, across the grass next to the sidewalk – because after about a thousand scraped knees I had finally convinced her that running in the grass was safer." He shook his head at himself and at the memory.

"She was still a little ways back – ten feet or so before she caught up with me – when I guess she twisted it wrong or something, and she fell down wrong, with all her weight on it in _just_ the wrong way…" The smile on his face became a grimace as he thought back to the little girl, shrieking in pain. "I honestly don't know how she did it. One second, she was running, the next… I was kneeling over her in the grass."

While it didn't make Jane's feet feel any better, Kurt's story distracted her enough that she stopped feeling agony in every step. She wasn't _quite_ as conscious of the pain as she imagined a young Taylor Shaw in even more pain than she herself was just then. _Poor kid,_ she couldn't help but think.

"So once I determined that it was her ankle that was the problem, I picked her up and walked three miles to the doctor's office. Thankfully they were open."

"You carried her three miles?" Jane asked in surprise. It was hard for her to see his face, even when she looked up, and at that moment she wished that she could see it better. In his profile, however, she saw him smile and look in her direction.

"I did, but it's not so impressive. She was so small, it was like she weighed nothing."

"But you also weren't as big as you are now," she pointed out. "You were just a kid, too."

"True," he conceded. "But I was big enough, and there was no other choice. Her mom was at work, my dad was…" he shrugged. "Who knows where? Maybe work… maybe just somewhere else. There were no cell phones back then. She needed to get to the doctor, so I took her."

Jane couldn't help but smile, because not only did that sound exactly like something that he would do, but it was as though his sense of duty had been ingrained in him at birth. There was a job to do, and he did it. End of story. When it came to Taylor, she knew that he would've walked a lot farther if it had been necessary.

"So did you have to carry her home, too?" Jane asked. "After she saw the doctor?"

"No, the receptionist took pity on us and drove us home. It was a small town, and the office wasn't that busy, so the doctor didn't mind. So we went back and hung out at her house. I made her chocolate chip cookies," he said proudly.

"Really?" Jane asked in surprise. "How old were you then?" Since he'd been ten when she'd disappeared, he'd been young no matter when it had been.

"Nine and a half," he told her with a hint of sadness in his voice. The shadow that crossed his face lasted only a few intense seconds. It was easier to remember Taylor now, but every now and then, one of the details would sting more than the others.

Jane had been holding onto him tightly since she'd stood up, but he felt her arm squeeze just a little tighter around him for a few seconds. He breathed in and out carefully a few times, and the feeling passed. The scar on his soul was never going to heal completely, but it was easier to bear with Jane there, holding onto him.

"The doctor had said she needed to rest for at least two weeks, and to stay off of it pretty much completely," he said. "So I gave her a piggy back ride to and from school, and at home we played a lot of board games and watched her favorite movies on VHS. Do you remember those?" When she nodded, he continued. "I believe those two movies were The Care Bears and Scooby Doo. And when we were bored of being inside, I would give her a piggy back ride out to our secret hide out in the woods in the back yard, and bring a blanket for her to sit on." Unable to help himself, he smiled at the memory. "Every time we went out there during those weeks, she made me play this game where she was the queen, sitting on her blanket throne, and I was the subject who had to wait on her."

Jane giggled then. "Not the king? Not even the prince?" she asked in surprise.

"What can I say? The kid had delusions of grandeur," he told her with a grin, looking down at her as best as he could from the awkward angle. "And I'm glad I indulged them while I had the chance," he added in a softer voice.

There were times when he talked about Taylor when she felt her heart breaking for him all over again, and this was one of those times. She couldn't imagine what it must be like, to have memories that were that old and that painful. It had been a few years now since she had become Jane, yes, and heaven knew that there were intensely painful parts of her recent past – thinking that she had lost him, for example. Even so, she could only imagine what he still went through when he thought of Taylor. She simply had nothing to which she could compare such an old memory.

He'd suddenly turned the conversation much more serious than he'd meant to, and he realized it when he looked down at Jane and saw a concerned look in her eyes. That look told him that she was worried about him. It shouldn't have been surprising this time, because she was especially alert to changes in his mood any time he mentioned Taylor. The same thing happened, in the reverse, every time she mentioned the people who had shaped her own past – Shepherd, Oscar… basically, anyone she'd known before him, since it seemed that those few people she could remember from _before_ had been part of Sandstorm. These conversations also set _him_ on alert the same way, so that he was ready to support her if it was needed. This balance was why it worked, though. Neither of them could erase their pasts, but they both worried so much about the other that those pasts were kept at bay – at least most of the time.

She leaned her head against his shoulder. It made walking a little harder, but at that second it seemed necessary. Without a word, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. Even without saying anything, they'd said absolutely everything they needed to say.

It had been a while since Jane had focused on the pain from her feet, which she now suddenly felt again. Ignoring it the best she could, she continued pushing through it. There was nothing else that could be done, since he couldn't carry her – though he said otherwise – and resting was not an option. So she hobbled along, saying nothing about the pain and doing her best to pretend that she was fine. Their situation was becoming increasingly dire, but they were still standing, still together.

Jane was once again lost in her thoughts, concentrating on telling herself that her feet did _not_ hurt, despite the fact that she knew better, when Kurt suddenly came to a complete stop without warning. Lurching slightly forward in surprise, she struggled to keep her balance, turning towards him to see what was wrong.

"Whoa, what—" she started, but he quickly brought a finger to her lips to stop her from saying anything else, gesturing off to the left side of the path. There, on a rocky outcropping along the edge of the slope, after which the land fell sharply downwards, were two eyes staring at them from a light-colored, spotted, furry face. Jane stiffened, not sure what it was or whether or not they were in danger. It wasn't as though she could run from it, after all, if that was even necessary.

"It's a snow leopard," Kurt whispered beside her ear, not wanting to make any more noise than absolutely necessary.

"Are they dangerous?" she whispered back, trying to both put her mouth as close to his ear as she could while also not taking her eyes off of the animal.

"They're not supposed to be, at least not to humans," he whispered back. "That's what I've read, anyway."

"I'd hate to be the exception, though," she ventured quietly, still uneasy despite the animal's beauty. There was nothing that said that it couldn't be both beautiful and deadly, after all. His face was so close to hers that she felt him nod as the two of them stared at the animal, who barely blinked at all as it stared back at them, for another full minute.

"Come on," he whispered. "We should go."

"For a couple reasons," she agreed. As they walked away, they had to take their eyes off of the snow leopard, which made Jane very nervous. Several times she looked back to where they'd seen it, but it was no longer there. Panic surged through her and she scanned the area around them quickly, but saw no signs of it elsewhere, either. If it decided to attack them, no matter how non-aggressive they allegedly were, they would have no good way to defend themselves. At least none that she knew of. She didn't have a gun or anything bigger than a pocket knife with her, though she wasn't sure about Kurt.

"It's gone," she whispered as they walked, now with a sense of unease. "Do you think it's still watching us?"

"I don't know," he replied. "Let's just hope it's moved on to hunt something besides us."

"Yeah," she agreed softly, looking around again and craning her neck in several different directions before settling down to look out in front of them.

There _shouldn't_ be anything to be afraid of, at least from the snow leopard, he knew, but this was a matter of life and death. More specifically, of _Jane's_ life. Okay, no, he didn't want to die either, but the thought of something happening to Jane was far more terrifying than the thought of the same fate befalling him. Up until now, they hadn't seen any wildlife, but this had been a reminder that it was out there, and that the two of them were vulnerable not only to the elements, but to all of nature.

Though most of the wildlife of Tibet that he knew of was harmless to humans, the Tibetan wolf was a different story. They were known to kill mainly livestock, he had been told in the village at the base of the mountain, but that was mostly because those were the animals who were the left outside. Depending on the abundance of their regular food sources, two humans may or may not have looked like attractive alternatives. There was really nothing they could do but stay alert to the danger, however. And then there was the fact that if they saw a wolf, he wasn't quite sure what they would have _done._ Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

She was tense against him, he noticed, and from her slightly heavier breathing he guessed that she was pushing herself too hard. He wasn't quite sure how long it had been since their last break – at least a few hours, judging from the sun's position – but that didn't really matter. If she wore herself out, they'd be worse off no matter what time it was.

"Jane, let's take a rest. Just a few minutes," he told her.

"No, I'm fine," she insisted. The effort that it took her to speak while she kept walking was obvious, and it made her heavy breathing that much more pronounced.

"Either we take a break or I carry you," he told her sternly, which earned him a heavy sigh.

"You can't carry me, Kurt. At least not far enough to make any difference," she argued.

"Well, then I suggest you stop and take a break, before I start trying," he said insistently.

With a sigh, she stopped, and if he wasn't mistaken, she leaned against him even harder. "You don't need a break, huh?" he asked, speaking into her ear, and she glared at him from an angle that he couldn't see. She hated that he'd called her bluff.

He got to work quickly spreading out the tarp once more, and she all but collapsed onto it as soon as he moved out of the way. Lowering himself down beside her where she was once again lying on her back, he had an idea.

"Scoot back into the middle of the tarp," he told her, rubbing her knee gently. "I thought of something that might help." Without questioning him and without sitting up, she scooted back as requested, one arm folded under her head. "Okay, now let's see how it feels if we prop your feet up on my pack," he said, sliding a hand under her feet and lifting them gently so that he could slide the larger backpack under her ankles. Sliding back over so that he was lying beside her on his right side, he noticed that she had closed her eyes. He smiled worriedly at her as he stroked her cheek with the backs of the fingers on his left hand, "Better?" he asked quietly, becoming more and more concerned about her.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Thanks." She opened her eyes and looked at him, and it was clear to him that she was in pain.

"Why didn't you tell me you needed a break?" he asked her accusingly, yet gently.

"Because I'm fine. And we have to get down this damn mountain," she replied stubbornly.

All he could do was roll his eyes. "You are _not_ fine," he corrected her, frustrated with her disregard for her own wellbeing.

"I've had a lot worse," she whispered then, shivering with the memories of how _many_ things she had been put through that were physically much more painful than feet covered blisters.

As sternly as he'd been speaking to her, he couldn't help but feel her pain tugging at his heart. He was only being hard on her because he was worried about her, after all, and at that moment the ability to dish out tough love was gone. "I know you have, but that doesn't mean you're fine," he told her soothingly. "I'm trying to take care of you, you know."

Her smile was sad as she watched him, his face looking down at hers from such a short distance. "I don't make it easy, do I?" she asked.

"No, you certainly don't," he replied. She smiled then, an exhausted smile, and he leaned his forehead down against hers, closing his eyes. Maybe he hadn't needed this break quite as much as she had, but he realized only then that he had also needed it.

Lifting up his head, he used his left hand to smooth back her hair.

"We're going to rest here for a little while, and then we'll get up and keep walking. We still have at least a few hours of daylight left," he told her. "Okay?"

Knowing that he wasn't actually asking, but telling her, she nodded with a heavy sigh. To tell the truth, laying down with her feet up was a relief, even though it felt selfish. She was surprised when her eyes felt heavy a few minutes later, and because he'd told her to rest, she didn't fight it when weariness caught up with her. Instead, she let herself drop off to sleep.

Her sleep was anything but restful, however, because it was soon Oscar's face that loomed large in front of her. Though it was a dream, it was also a memory. Up to this point on their journey home, she'd been able to keep most of those memories, the ones that had caused her to flee in the first place, at bay. This wasn't something that her mind was making up, but something that had really happened, and in a way that made it worse.

As if that wasn't bad enough, unlike when she'd worked with the FBI for the first year or two, she now remembered the emotions that accompanied her memories. Instead of feeling nothing when she thought of Oscar, she could actually remember how she'd felt about him. Of course, knowing now what he had done in the name of his supposed "love" for her, and of their country, her feelings had changed… but it was all just so much more complicated than it had been when all she had were a few black and white flashes with no emotions attached. Ironically, though she'd wanted nothing more than to remember for so long, now she wished she had never remembered any of it.

Though it was a dream, it felt just as real as the time she was remembering. That night, lying beside him, she had been perfectly content. Now, this time, all she knew was that she didn't want Oscar anywhere near her. And yet there he was, moving closer and closer. He was the same as he'd been in her memories, looking at her with love, even though _she_ was now a different person. The result was at best a disconcerting mix of past and present, real and fictional.

 _Remi,_ he whispered, pushing back her long hair with one hand and leaning in to kiss her. She realized with a start that he was lying beside her in a familiar bed, and she turned her head violently, trying to get away from him.

Meanwhile, Kurt had been watching Jane carefully as she fell asleep. She'd looked so peaceful at first, but it hadn't been long before her face had creased in what looked like displeasure and maybe even… fear? He couldn't quite tell. When she turned her head away from him, murmuring _"No, don't, I don't want…"_ he couldn't help but be concerned. Whatever was happening in her dream, she didn't like it.

"Jane,"Kurt whispered. "Jane, wake up." When she whimpered, turning her head a second time as if once again trying to get away from someone or something, he felt his heart aching for her all over again. "Hey, Jane, come on, wake up."

" _Remi, I love you,"_ Oscar was whispering to her, and Jane could feel herself beginning to panic. She knew that she wasn't Remi, that she didn't _want_ to be Remi. She knew that it was a real memory somehow, and yet that it was also happening in a dream. But why couldn't she force herself _out_ of it, if that was true? The fact that she couldn't break the spell was the thing that made her panic.

 _I have to get out of here,_ she thought more and more frantically as she tried to get away from Oscar. And yet, it felt like no matter what she did, he was still there in front of her, his mouth now almost on hers.

" _NO!"_ she screamed in her dream, now breathless with panic and thrashing around helplessly as she tried to push herself away from Oscar. _"You're not real!"_ He stopped and looked at her then, confused.

" _Of course I'm real,"_ he told her. _"Why would you say that, Remi?"_

" _I'm_ _ **not**_ _Remi,"_ she told him adamantly. _"I'm Jane. And I don't love you. I'm_ _ **not**_ _her."_

" _But… you promised you would love me no matter what,"_ he reminded her, looking both distraught and even angry. _"Jane was never even a real person. That's who you were after we zipped you, the absence of Remi… but you were always Remi. You'll_ _ **always**_ _be Remi. And now, on the other side of this… you're becoming Remi again. You can feel it, can't you? You're done being Jane. We don't need her anymore."_

" _ **NO**_ _,"_ Jane replied adamantly in her dream. _"I'm done being_ _ **Remi**_ _. Shepherd made her a monster, but then you all did me the favor of erasing her. She's_ _ **gone**_ _. And I'm sorry, but she's never coming back. No, you know what? I'm_ _ **not**_ _sorry. She was a horrible, cruel, heartless person who didn't care who she hurt. But the ends do_ _ **not**_ _justify the means. Whoever I was before, I will_ _ **never**_ _be her again. So get out of my face, get out of my head, and get out of my dreams. I don't love you."_ She was yelling and out of breath, with tears running down her face. She felt beyond distraught – she was angry, exhausted, disgusted… Nearly everything that she could have felt over the strange situation was there, all at once.

Her breathing was coming in sharp bursts, and it was clear that she was having a nightmare from which she hadn't yet been able to wake up. Some of the words she was mumbling were intelligible, while others were not. He needed to wake her up, but he wasn't sure _how_. So far, he'd tried talking to her, and he'd tried shaking her shoulders gently, but neither had worked. Instead, whatever what was happening in her head was only getting more and more intense.

"Jane," he said, louder and more forcefully. " _Jane._ It's me, Kurt. You need to wake up, sweetheart. Come on… come back to me." In between the few words that he could make out, she'd been whimpering, but those whimpers were intensifying into moans, and the only thing he knew was that he had to make it stop.

" _Jane,_ " he said again, insistently, squeezing one of her hands and pressing it against his cheek. "Come on, Jane. Wake up now."

Almost in the same second, she let out a sharp gasp and pulled herself partway upwards, straight forward, trying to sit up. However, she didn't make it all the way up, since her legs were resting straight in front of her, on Kurt's backpack. Before she could fall backward, he reached forward to get his right arm behind her back, catching her, and them propping his knee up and lowering her back slightly so that she was braced against it and hugging her to him. Looking down, he saw that she was still not fully awake. She was pushing back against the gentle hold that he had on her, and he knew that he needed to wake her up fully before she used her considerable strength against him.

"Jane," he said quickly. Her eyes, which had yet to focus, snapped in his direction as her rapid breathing faltered, resulting in a gasp escaping her as she looked at him.

There she sat in Kurt's gentle yet firm hold, breathing heavily but no longer struggling. She was staring at him, and yet only just now beginning to actually register in her brain that she was seeing Kurt, not Oscar. Suddenly going weak with relief, she felt the tension, fear and frustration that had filled her veins until only a second before dissipate into nothing. If he hadn't been holding onto her, she would have collapsed right there.

 _Breathe_ , she told herself, _it's okay. It's over._

"Kurt," was the only word she could manage, and it came out in a raspy whisper.

"Hey, welcome back," he told her, tightening his hold on her now that he didn't have to worry about making her feel trapped inside her nightmare. She was calming down slowly, and he could only wonder what had happened inside her head that had upset her that much. "Bad dream?"

He had moved closer, so that he was somewhere between behind her and next to her, and her head leaned heavily against his chest. Because of this, when she shook her head adamantly at the question, he felt it.

"It wasn't a dream," she whispered, her breathing accelerating again suddenly just thinking about it. "At least, it wasn't at first. I remembered it, the scene… It started out as a memory. It was _Oscar_." She said his name as if it tasted bad, then went on.

"I remembered how I _felt_ about him, even. You know, before? And I knew where we were. Except that… of course I didn't feel that way anymore, I didn't want him near me… not after… _everything…_ But he was lying there next to me, he wanted to kiss me… He kept calling me Remi and insisting that I'd promised to love him… Which wasn't wrong. Once upon a time, I did that. I _remember_ that part. But I… I didn't let him get any closer. I couldn't, I—"

Suddenly she looked up at Kurt as if she'd only just realized what she was saying and who she was saying it to. Almost immediately, she began shaking her head as if doing so would pull the words back in. "I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"Hey, uh-uh, don't even think about apologizing. You didn't do anything wrong, Jane. You had a bad dream. That's all it was, even if it was a little bit mixed up with a memory. It got a little out of control, but it's okay. You're not Remi, and Oscar can't do anything to hurt you anymore."

"Because I killed him," she interjected miserably before he could continue.

"And if you hadn't, he would have zipped you, and you would have forgotten everything, all over again. You would have forgotten everything we'd been through, you and me, and who knows if you ever would have remembered any of it. You knew exactly how dangerous what he wanted to do to you was, because you'd already been through it once. You had no choice but to defend yourself. But he… he didn't have to threaten you that way. That was his _choice_. Right?"

"Yeah," she whispered without picking up her head from where it lay against his chest.

"You'reokay," he told her soothingly. He had wound his arms around her and was holding on tightly, then he bent down slightly to kiss the top of her head.

She nodded, saying nothing, only gulping air in to try to steady herself. She'd had lots of these nightmare memories since she'd started remembering, all since she'd left him, and waking up from them had always been bad enough to deter her from wanting to go to sleep for days. Even as many as she'd had, somehow they had never gotten any easier. Well, never until just now. As bad as waking up from this one had been, it had been better than any of the others, because he was there with her.

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Let's take a few more minutes here, and then we should try to get another few hours of walking in before dark," he told her, to which she nodded her agreement.

"Okay," she replied softly. For those few moments, she focused simply on breathing in and out, on letting her heart rate return to normal, and mostly, on the fact that it was Kurt whose arms were around her.

He was right… she was okay, and once again it was thanks to him.


	7. Always

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

While they were sitting on the ground, Kurt carefully slipped the small package of food that the monks had given them out of his pack, careful not to disturb Jane's feet, which sat on top of it.

"Oh, I'm sorry, let me move out of the way," she told him quickly, seeing that he was trying to work around her.

"No, don't move," he protested. "Keep your feet up as long as possible." Still exhausted from the sleep that had been anything but restful, she nodded. She was leaning back, but still sitting up braced against her hands out behind her on the tarp. With what was left of their food in front of him, he scooted back over beside her.

"As long as we're sitting here, we should eat _something_ ," he told her sternly. "Neither of us have eaten enough since we left, and we need to keep our strength up. Especially you."

He's opened a bundle containing four small rolls, and she reached for one, now balancing awkwardly against one arm and taking small bites as he watched her carefully. She knew that she needed to eat, and she knew that he was going to make sure that she did, but truthfully, she really wasn't hungry. Her stomach was in knots after the dream she'd just had.

He watched her worriedly, and he could tell that she was only eating because he was watching her. That was okay with him, as long as she ate. While it was less so than he had been before he'd found her, he was still worried about her. Really, he'd worried about her for almost as long as he'd known her, and over the months since she'd disappeared, that worry had only intensified exponentially. Now, even after he'd found her, it was hard, if not impossible, to dial that worry back down to a normal level.

As he took slow bites of the roll he was eating, he put his right hand over her left where it sat on the tarp behind her, holding her up while her feet stayed elevated.

She was looking off somewhere in the distance, and she smiled weakly when she felt his hand on top of hers, slowly coming back to the present. The intensity of the look on his face when she looked back at him said enough that neither of them felt the need to speak, so they simply ate in silence, watching each other shyly.

When she finished the first roll, he held up another one to her, his eyes telling her in no uncertain terms that she was going to eat it. "I'm really not hungry, Kurt," she protested quietly, even though she knew that he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Jane, you need to eat," he told her, just as insistently as she'd expected.

"Bossy," she muttered as she took a bite. Never mind that she hadn't exactly meant it nicely, Kurt couldn't help but smile. After all, she was there in front of him, and he didn't mind if she grumbled, so long as she let him keep on taking care of her. Besides, it had been a long time since she'd called him that… and he loved that they now had that their past that stretched back far enough that it felt as though something between them had happened a very long time ago. It might sound strange, but he wanted those beginning times, the part where they'd known so little about her, to keep getting farther and farther away – while still keeping her close to him, of course – because that would mean that they had been together that much longer. Not that it would ever be enough, of course.

There was one more roll, but he put it away. Of course he was hungry, but with food supplies running so low relative to their slow progress – they had some dried meat and some kind of local fruits whose names that he didn't even know, as well as some nuts, but that was all – he wanted to conserve as much as possible. He was doing much better than Jane, and he could afford to eat less just then, after all. As always, he was far more worried about _her_.

"Let's get going," Jane said. He swore that it had taken all of her energy just to say those three words, and he didn't know how she was going to manage to walk, even with his help. Staring at her carefully, he tried to see inside her head to try to figure out if he could reasonably ask her to walk any further. As if reading _his_ mind, she narrowed her eyes at him and sighed. "I'm fine, Kurt."

"We've been over this," he told her gruffly. "You're not fine."

"I'm fine enough to keep walking," she told him. "The choices are keep walking, or die out here, aren't they?" With a sigh, he acknowledged that she was right, nodding at her unhappily. He hated to see her push herself like this, but damn, she was the strongest and most determined woman he'd ever known, and it just made him love her even more. "I'll rest later," she promised, purposely being vague about the timeframe.

"Sure you will," he replied suspiciously, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

"All that matters now that that he keep walking," she reminded him. "It's the only we can get back," she reminded him.

"Fine," he mumbled gruffly, squeezing his hand over hers one more time before leaning forward to ease her legs off of his backpack. He set it off to the side, then stood up and turned back to Jane, this time crouching down all the way to put his hands on her waist and lift her, bearing nearly all of her weight himself to keep it off of her feet for as long as possible. Once she was upright, he helped her limp the few steps off of the tarp, picking up his backpack to stand it on its end so that she could use it to balance while he carefully folded the tarp, dirty side in, and then put it away.

Somehow he rigged all three bags on his own back and over his shoulders, despite Jane's protests, then reached an arm around her waist, holding on securely. "Alright, easy," he told her, knowing that even a slow pace would wear her out.

His arm once again around her waist even more tightly than it had been earlier, as he became more and more worried about her, they began walking once again. Gradually, the scenery around them was changing, the incline of the land becoming gentler, the land beginning to resemble the valley that lay ahead of them more than the mountain that lay behind them. The two of them walked on in silence, since talking would have required too much effort, at least for Jane. Every once in a while, Kurt looked in her direction, leaning forward slightly and turning to try to see her face better. Each time, after she smiled tentatively, he kissed the side of her head and squeezed the arm that was already around her gently. He didn't need to ask her if she was okay. She wasn't okay, he knew, but she was putting up a damn good fight – just like she always did.

Moving slowly was better than not moving at all, but it was still frustrating to see how little ground they covered by the time the sun was low in the sky. "We need to stop, Jane, so we can make camp," Kurt insisted.

"With what?" Jane asked. "Have you seen anything to make a fire with anywhere around here?" Just speaking that much had left Jane noticeably winded, and Kurt was reminded of just how hard she was pushing herself, and how much walking was taking out of her. Still, she was the one insisting that they should go a little farther. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but he no longer had any choice. They were in some sort of meadow-like area, and it had been quite a while since they'd seen anything that looked like it could be burned to make a campfire.

Sighing in frustration, Kurt nodded. "Alright, we'll go a little farther, try to find a better spot… but we need to stop soon. We're going to lose the light." Jane just nodded, putting all of her focus on putting one foot ahead of the other and not screaming in pain. She desperately wanted to stop and rest, but she also knew that stopping somewhere that they could make a fire would be better than somewhere that they couldn't. Yes, it was better than being trapped in a blizzard, but that didn't make where they were now ideal by any stretch of the imagination.

Fifteen minutes and nearly the rest of the remaining light later, they were forced to admit that they were simply not going to find a better place to stop before night fell, so he pulled her to a stop. "That's as far as we're going for today," he told her insistently, knowing that there was a chance that she would fight him on it, even in her condition. That was just how stubborn she was.

To his relief, however, for once she simply nodded, giving in to the fact that this was where they were going to camp. At least, as they stepped off the well-worn path, Kurt was able to spread out the tarp on a thick carpet of soft grass this time. If they couldn't have a fire, at least they had that consolation. The tarp again spread out, Kurt rolled out the sleeping bag as Jane reclined nearby, her feet once again elevated on his pack. She hadn't even bothered to take off her boots yet, even though he knew that her feet must be in agony.

The fact that she had said nothing, not even so much as groaned, since she had lay down and raised her feet to their current position, then laid back and closed her eyes had him even more worried than he would have been if she _had_ made noise about it. As soon as the sleeping bag was rolled out, he sat down beside her, the back of his hand going to her forehead. Her skin felt warmer than usual, though she wasn't burning up, and it caused him to worry even more than he already had been. While she wasn't feverish, even her temperature being elevated was a cause for concern. It wasn't as though he could take her to the doctor, after all.

 _You've both been walking for hours, and she's under considerable strain,_ the voice in his head reminded him, _of course she's a little warm. Let her settle down for a while._

Calling a truce with his worries for the time being, at least about her body temperature, he smoothed her hair back over the top of her head, leaning down to kiss her forehead. Her eyes remained closed, but she smiled at the contact, still saying nothing.

"Jane," he whispered, but stopped. It would be ridiculous to ask her if she was okay, so he stopped himself. Really, there wasn't much to say at that moment. "You still with me?" he asked, for lack of anything better, but with a desperate need to say _something_ , especially something that would get a response.

"Yeah," she whispered weakly, turning towards the sound of his voice but still not opening her eyes. "Always." He sounded worried, she noticed, and she knew without having to look at him that there would be just that and more reflected in his eyes… but her eyelids were too heavy just then, and she kept them closed. It had taken every ounce of her strength to walk as far as they had, and now that she had stopped moving and was lying down, it was as if she couldn't convince a single one of her muscles to respond to a command to move.

"Let's get these boots off of you," he told her quietly. In her head, she ordered herself to nod in agreement, but was frustrated when again, her muscles did not comply. Instead she lay still, breathing in and out and feeling him shift beside her, moving closer to her feet so that he could untie one boot, then the other, removing them as carefully as he could from her feet. She heard him suck in a sharp breath as the first boot came off, and she knew that what he saw must look pretty bad.

"I think the band aids under here are done for," he said softly, beginning to peel off her sock as gently as he could. She understood what he meant – the blisters must have been bleeding again. No wonder it hurt so much. Shifting the backpack slightly so that her other foot was still propped on top of it, now free of the boot, he put the foot that he was working on in his lap, keeping his touch extremely light and gentle. Despite how tough his wife was, never wanting to admit weakness and always claiming to be fine, even in times like this, he knew that this must be agonizingly painful for her.

One by one, he removed the blood-soaked band aids, feeling her wince now and then, after each of which he attempted to be even gentler with her foot than he had been before. Because of this, it was slow going, and he was conscious of the fact that the light was fading fast. Indeed, by the time he had both of her feet free of the tiny strips of spent plastic, there was only a hint of light on the horizon.

Working as quickly as he could, he sprayed her feet with the antiseptic from the first aid kit, debating covering them versus letting them air dry. Thankfully they were no longer bleeding, and their supplies were desperately low. At the same time, he was afraid to risk infection. In the end, he decided to leave them uncovered for the time being, since they were about to be inside the sleeping bag anyway, vowing to cover them properly – at least to the extent that he was able – first thing in the morning.

"Jane, can you sit up and have some water, at least?" he asked her worriedly. "We're about to lose the light completely." He also had two small pain relief pills at the ready.

He watched as she forced her eyelids open, and when she struggled to sit up, he had a better idea. Gently lying her feet down on the tarp, he moved himself around to help her, positioning himself behind her so that she was leaning back against his chest, his knees on either side of her. "Take these," he told her gently, "and drink this." Holding out two tiny pills, he waited until she put them in the back of her mouth before handing her a water bottle that was only a quarter of the way full. When she didn't close her fingers around it, he closed his fingers over hers so that she was holding it, then released her hand so that she could drink.

"No, you need some too," she protested weakly.

"I already had some of it," he promised her. He'd had a sip, but it was all he needed just then, in the interest of conserving resources. "Now drink this, and we'll get into that sleeping bag before it gets any cooler."

He was right about the air cooling off. It was considerably cooler now, and the difference was noticeable even since they'd stopped. Not only was the light going out of the air, but the heat was, too.

"Can you reach my toothbrush?" she asked, to his surprise.

"Of course," he replied with a chuckle, pulling out both of theirs. When that simple task was taken care of and the toothbrushes were put away, the water bottle empty and stowed back in the backpack, Kurt helped scoot Jane the short distance to the sleeping bag. When she began attempting to wiggle out of her pants, her eyes already closing, he laid a hand on her stomach. "Easy," he said, "let me help you with that."

Her eyes opened just wide enough to look at him with a hint of the playfulness that he'd missed. "Oh you'd do that for me, would you?" she asked.

"I'd do _anything_ for you, Jane. You know that, don't you?" he asked, suddenly serious even as he kept moving, not wanting her to get cold and therefore needing to get her into the sleeping bag as quickly as possible. "And I'm not just saying that because I'm helping you take your clothes off," he assured her with a grin.

"Haha," she replied tiredly. "I know that," she added. "I don't deserve you."

If he wasn't mistaken, the corners of her eyes looked just a little moister than they had a second before, but it could just as easily have been the fading light. But there had been the tiniest quiver in her voice as well, and his instincts told him that he was reading her correctly.

"Maybe not," he said, to her surprise, as he tried to keep the mood light, "but you're going to have to deal with me. Because if this whole adventure we're on has taught you one thing, it should be that I'm not giving up on you. Not ever." He closed the flap of the sleeping bag over her, to keep her warm while he pulled off his own clothes. As he did, he watched her face as she took in his words.

She smiled at his silly and yet honestly sweet words, then took a deep breath as her eyes closed again just as she felt a rush of cool air on her skin as the sleeping bag opened again. And then he was joining her inside it, reaching behind him to zip the zipper. What he'd said was the truth, and she knew it. Whether or not she deserved his devotion, she had it. Even as much as she'd hurt him by leaving, she _still_ had it. For the thousandth time, she shuddered to think of how he'd felt to find her gone, even though she'd left with the absolute best of intentions – to protect him.

He pulled the zipper as high as it would go, awkwardly zipping it behind his back and then settling against her, his hands moving over her skin as his arms wrapped around her. Even now, on the third night since he'd found her, he got a little bit frantic at the thought that he'd ever been in danger of _not_ finding her. It would never have been an acceptable outcome, and he would gladly have let the search for her consume his life, if that had been necessary… but he was just so glad that it hadn't come to that.

There was a torrent of emotions coursing through both of them, and with exhaustion a major factor, especially for her, they were both soon overwhelmed. Unable to process the many things she was feeling all at once, she simply surrendered to the strongest of her feelings – the same instinctive reaction that she'd always had to his touch… to lean into it. Never had anything seemed as simple to her as the need for contact with him did just then. Not even five minutes ago, when logically it would have been just as strong as it was now. No, at that moment she had _never_ needed him more. Now, with his arms around her, every part of her hurting or exhausted, her heart most of all, she quickly fell asleep. He was the respite she had desperately needed… just like he always had been.

For his part, Kurt stayed awake a little longer than Jane, long enough to be sure that she was asleep. That hadn't taken long, of course, as exhausted as she'd been, and he'd been pleased to feel her lean into him without hesitation. Things would probably be anything but normal between them for a long time, but if there was one thing that he already knew, it was that she needed him as much as he needed her. With that thought to steady him, he felt himself drift off to sleep soon after her.

Hours later, but still long before dawn, Kurt awaked to an uncomfortable feeling. Jane was still beside him, held securely in his arms, but something wasn't right. He tried to evaluate their surroundings the best he could, shifting slowly as he tried to look around them, out into the blackness, for the source of the unease he was feeling.

He didn't have to look far to find it. As he stared out into the dark around them, he saw two glowing eyes. His heartrate immediately skyrocketed as he evaluated the situation. Of course, there was very little he could actually _do_ , besides simply hope that whatever animal it was out there, uncomfortably close to them, simply lost interest and wandered off. Even if they'd both been fully dressed and it had been light outside, they had no weapons to speak of bigger than a pocket knife, and Jane could barely walk. Therefore, he stared into the two eyes, willing the animal to sense that he was awake and watching it, and to decide that this particular pair of humans were not interesting to it so that it would simply wander away.

It took what felt like a long time, lying frozen there, every muscle in his body tense as he kept a protective hold around Jane. He was ready to curve around her if whatever it was lunged at them – beyond that, he had no plan. Eventually, however, the eyes moved, looking out into the distance as the head they were attached to turned away. And then just like that, the animal began walking away, the glowing eyes looking back only once before the sounds of it moving away grew fainter and fainter. Finally, Kurt could relax again, letting go of the breath that he felt like he'd been holding for hours. There was only the slightest hint of light in the sky, and he let his eyes close again, exhausted from the stress of keeping watch, and of fearing that whatever the animal was that had been watching them during the night would strike. He would examine the tracks it had left later, if he could do so without alarming Jane, but now he would take advantage of what little remained of the night.

When Jane began to slowly wake up, she felt Kurt's arms around her. While it was only the third night they'd spent together since she'd left him, she remembered vividly what it was normally like to wake up with him. Somehow, she noticed immediately, this was different. It wasn't different in the same way that those first two mornings had been, because those had been different as well. It wasn't something she could explain, somehow she just knew that something was amiss.

She'd turned over in her sleep, and he was now holding onto her tightly, lying against her back. Shifting slightly to look at him over her shoulder, she saw that he was still asleep. After all the times that she'd woken up to find him watching her, she was a little surprised to find his eyes closed. Still, that by itself wasn't something that concerned her. However, she was still convinced that something was wrong, and she wished that he would wake up so she could ask him what it was.

Shifting slowly and carefully so that she could watch him without having to look over her shoulder, she turned her body toward his. Even in his sleep, and despite her movement, he kept his arms fastened around her, though slightly more loosely. Now lying on her left side and watching him carefully, their faces only a few inches apart, she momentarily had to remind herself to breathe. Whatever it was, they were still safe, and they were still together. Surely, whatever was giving her that nagging feeling that something was wrong was either a false alarm or wasn't important enough that she should be worried.

It had to be one of those… didn't it?

Unable to help herself, she held her right hand up against the scruff on his cheek. She'd always liked his scruffiness, and now even more so. Indeed, after so long apart, she loved _everything_ about him a thousand times more than she had before. The scruff on his cheek was longer and thicker than usual after his travels, and she took in this fact simultaneously as proof of his devotion to her as well as proof of just how deeply she had hurt him. It was a confusing place, her head. Fueled by the overwhelming gratitude she felt just from looking at him, she just continued to stare at him as he slept, watching him reverently, vowing to do everything in her power to make up to him for her actions in the past. After all, it was all she could do.

She hadn't even realized her thumb was moving across his cheek, swiping slowly back and forth as she watched him sleeping in the dim light of the rising sun. That is, until she felt him shift his face toward her hand, his eyes still closed but a smile creeping across his lips. "Jane," he mumbled, as his left hand moved from her back to cover hers on his cheek. Butterflies danced in her stomach at the gesture. There was simply no way she could love him more, and the memory of the past few months made her chest ache. In no universe did she deserve yet another chance. And yet… here they were.

He had felt her shift, felt her hand on his face, but he hadn't quite been conscious yet. Really, he'd thought that he was dreaming. In this dream, he was still looking for her, still feeling a hole in himself and in his life that gaped so far and wide that nothing could come close to filling it. Only Jane. And then somehow, she was there, close beside him. In his half-awake state, he still hadn't decided which was real, the dream or the reality, nor could he tell if he was imagining her there beside him, or if it was real.

But then, piece by piece, the events of the past few days came back to him, fitting together in his head like a slow motion puzzle that eventually solved itself. When it did, the final piece sliding into place, suddenly a light bulb went on in his head. He opened his eyes and found her lying beside him, staring into his eyes.

"Hey, good morning," he whispered, not wanting to disturb the silence of the mountain in the morning. Her hand was still on his cheek, his hand on top of her hand, and he squeezed slightly around her fingers. "How are you feeling?"

"A little better," she replied. "Of course it helps that I haven't been walking for a few hours."

"That's true," he agreed. Thinking back to the night before and the strange glowing eyes, he pulled her a little tighter with his free arm.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

"You mean besides the fact that we're on a deserted mountain with a dwindling supply of food and water, and you're injured and three of our friends have been kidnapped?" he asked, somewhere between joking and serious. None of it was funny, of course… but it was one of those situations where it was _so_ serious, you had to find humor in it or you couldn't go on.

"And besides the fact that your wife ran away to the end of the Earth and she's the reason why you trekked halfway around the world to find her? Yes, besides all that," Jane added. "What _else_ is wrong?"

He debated for a few seconds whether to tell her, but realized that for better or worse, he had to. Things were hard enough between them just then without him trying to keep things from her – and especially something like this – it could be important to their survival as they went down the mountain, but really, after that, it wasn't important – it was just something that had happened. It was a silly thing to keep from her. Besides, he didn't _want_ to keep things from her. Quite the opposite, actually.

"Last night I woke up in the middle of the night, and something felt… off," he began. "And I looked around, and there were these… these two eyes glowing in the dark, watching us." He watched as she took in this information, her eyes growing wide in surprise. "I couldn't tell what it was, but it was just over there a little ways," he continued, pointing in the direction he'd seen the eyes. "I didn't wake you up because there wasn't going to be anything we could do anyway," he said, now suddenly anticipating what she would say next. "And honestly I was afraid that if I moved or said or did _anything,_ I would provoke it. If I'd thought that it would help _at all_ , I would've woken you up…" He watched her process it all, just nodding.

"Wow," she said quietly. She glanced around them, as if whatever it had been might still be hanging around. Of course, there was nothing anywhere around them with eyes, at least not that they could see. Now she understood the reason why he'd pulled her tighter – not that he really _needed_ another reason besides what they'd already been through, of course. "Sounds like it was a close one."

"I don't know if it was a snow leopard, or what it was," he conceded. "It might not have been anything dangerous."

"But it might have been," she finished for him.

"Yeah," he admitted with a sigh. "We were lucky."

"We need to get off this mountain," she said, restating the obvious. "Before our luck runs out."

"That we do," he agreed simply with a nod of his head. "For a lot of reasons."

"Then let's start getting ourselves ready," she suggested. It was really less of a suggestion and more of a direction.

He was still holding his hand over hers, securely against his cheek. "Good idea," he said, looking into her eyes and then leaning forward for the tiniest of kisses. "More of that later," he whispered, and her face melted into a smile. Time was a major factor, of course, as was morning breath.

"I love you," she replied, just as softly as he had. At that moment she felt as though she'd never be able to say it enough. Then suddenly she had that feeling again, that wave of guilt that began washing over her, ready to drown out everything else. To drown _her_.

He could see it in her eyes, he realized – that she was about to apologize again. Before she had a chance, however, he shook his head slightly. "Ssshhh…" he said, even though she wasn't speaking. "I love you, too." After a pause of only a few seconds, during which the look he'd seen in her eyes seemed to abate, she let out a heavy sigh and leaned against him. Their hands fell from his cheek as he wrapped his arms around her, holding on tightly. It was just another one of those moments when that felt like the absolute right thing to do, so he did it.

 _I'll give myself five seconds, and then I'll move,_ he thought, breathing it all in.

 _One one thousand._

 _Two one thousand._

 _Three one thousand._

 _Four one thousand._

 _Five one thousand._

As much as he was enjoying this, it was time to get up. Right now, despite the fact that they didn't want to, they needed to move, for their own safety and well-being.

"Alright, beautiful," he said, reaching behind him at the same awkward angle as the previous night for the zipper. "Time to get up."


	8. You Don't Have To

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

 _A/N: I need to apologize for going so long between updates on any of my fics. The first draft of my book is now finished and has been sent to my beta readers, so I have a little time to breathe and to catch up on Jane and Kurt. I want to get them home before season three starts next month (!), so I'll be putting my other two fics on hold while I finish this one. But I_ _ **will**_ _get back to them._

She'd tried to politely decline his insistence that they get up, as if it was a choice, but he had just smiled and shook his head, and began the arduous process of unzipping the zipper from behind him. Taking pity on him, she put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, would you like some help with the zipper?" she asked.

His arms came back inside the warmth of the sleeping bag quickly, and he smiled at her. "From you? Always."

At that moment they were on equal footing, so to speak, because Jane didn't have to be standing up. She scooted herself towards him, finding that she had a much harder time reaching around him than he had around her. In fact, even when she was pressed tightly against him, which neither of them minded in the least bit, she still couldn't really reach the zipper. Huffing in frustration, she shrugged and told him, "Well, it's official. We're stuck," then adding, "That means we get to stay in here, right?"

He chuckled and shook his head at her, eliciting a grumpy response from Jane. "When the whole team is home and safe, I'll happily lock myself in a sleeping bag with you, alright? For as long as you can stand me. But right now… We need to solve this problem." Nodding glumly because she had known all along what he would say, she pretended to pout. Laughing quietly again, he laid his hands on her cheeks and then leaned in to kiss her for far less time that he would have liked, before releasing his hands slowly from her face.

"We're going to switch places, alright?" he asked her. "Don't worry, I've got you." All she could do was nod, unsure exactly what was about to happen. With that, his hands skimmed her sides until he found her waist, where they tightened around her and suddenly she was lifted into what small amount of empty space there was within the sleeping bag. Somehow he was able to lift her first directly above him – which she wasn't at all opposed to, and then, scooting himself at the same time, suddenly she was on his left side, her back now against where the sleeping bag would open, as it had been the previous morning. It happened so fast, so was a little bit breathless as she came to rest on her right side, laughing the whole time.

"Now, let's try that zipper again," he mused, moving closer until he was flush against her once again.

"You could probably reach it from where you started, couldn't you?" she asked jokingly. "You just wanted an excuse to get closer?"

When he shrugged and asked, "I don't know, does it matter?" as he worked on the zipper behind her, she just shook her head at him, enjoying the closeness and knowing that it would be short lived. "Besides, I don't need an excuse. I _always_ want to get closer to you."

"Smooth," she commented with a grin.

"Let's do this differently than last time," he told her, the zipper now down far enough to let them crawl out. "I'll go grab your clothes and toss them over, and you don't even get on your feet yet. We need to have something to eat before we go anyway. I don't want you hurting yourself by standing up when it's not even necessary."

She was already dreading another day on those feet that hadn't had a chance to recover, and she nodded. "I mean… I'm fine… I can get up…"

Shaking his head at her quickly, he replied, "Again, it's not that I don't think you _can_. The point is… _You don't have to_. You don't have to do it all yourself, Jane. Let me help you." His expression was slightly pained as he added, "I hate that there isn't very much I can do for you right now, and that I have to keep pushing you when all I want to do is let you rest… Let me do _this_."

It hadn't been her intention to say no, and she found his plea extra sweet. Unable to contain the smile that was bursting from her, she just nodded at him. "Okay," she whispered.

He'd finished with the zipper and now had his arms around her again. Suddenly she felt him lifting her up again, moving until she was directly above him, cool air leaking into the sleeping bag from the opening he'd just created. This time he stopped moving and released her, so that for a few seconds she was lying on top of him, bracing her forearms on either side of his head so that she could lean down and kiss him. It was a short but sweet moment.

Much too soon, he began turning slowly so that in a few seconds, his back was to the zipper again. He had his arms around her to help her gently slide back down into the inside of the sleeping bag, so that he could get out and leave her with as much of the warm air as possible.

 _There will be more of this_ , she had to remind herself as he pulled back the flap of the sleeping bag reluctantly, moving away from her. She'd had a sudden urge to stop him from going any farther, but it had to happen and she knew it. Besides, all things considered, she had no right to ever tell _him_ not to move away from _her._

 _You want him close to you. That's how you feel,_ the voice in her head told her matter-of-factly. _Of course you have a right to your feelings_. _Even when they don't make sense, you have a right to them. You know very well that leaving him behind was a sacrifice, and it hurt you as much as it hurt him. You just refuse to admit that to yourself._

She knew that the voice was right, but she also knew that it was going to take some convincing to change her mindset. However, watching him hop quickly towards her clothes and toss them to her before even grabbing a scrap of his own, despite the chill in the air and his own nakedness, she knew that Kurt would work as long as it took for her to believe the best about herself.

When they were both dressed, he rolled up the sleeping bag and took out what was left of the food, Jane staying seated obediently. It wasn't easy to let him take care of her, but she was trying.

Their food supply was low, and their water supply was even lower. It made sense, since this was their third day on the mountain, and the trip should have taken them three days. The monks had given them sufficient provisions, but not an excessive amount. It was hard to know what percentage of the trip they'd actually completed, but if he had to guess, Kurt would estimate that they wouldn't reach the village until at least the end of the following day, if not later. While this wasn't a huge difference, perhaps, it was going to make it feel much, much longer if they ran out of food and/or water before then.

Kurt didn't say a word about it as he gave Jane the last roll, the one he'd saved from the night before, and looked at her sternly until she ate it. He was glad to see that she knew better than to protest by now, his stern expression having told her that 'no' was not an option. He had also pulled out the fruit and nuts that the monks had packed for them, none of which were familiar at all. They both tried different kinds from the assortment, as they tried to keep a balance between eating enough and conserving their supply for later. It didn't take long for them to eat as much as they dared, putting the rest away and then brushing their teeth. Without even asking, he gave her two pain relievers and the last water bottle.

"Do we have another one after this?" she asked him.

He admitted reluctantly that no, they didn't - that was their last water bottle. They tried not to dwell on it, but they also tried to drink as little of it as humanly possible.

"We should be passing the stream today… I think," he reminded her. "It was early in the trek that I remember passing it on the way up. It'll be a landmark that tells us we've almost made it down the mountain."

Though she'd assumed since they'd started the journey home that they would make it, back to civilization, back to New York, at that moment, it was a _very_ hard thing to imagine. Even making it to the stream felt impossible. She wasn't even convinced she could make it through the next hour, but she didn't dare say any of this aloud, lest she get Kurt started on the idea of carrying her again. Instead, she nodded weakly.

Kurt had wrapped Jane's feet in gauze until the sores on them were no longer visible. It had taken most of the gauze they had in their first aid kit, but she hadn't argued with him. He deemed it a necessary precaution against infection, which was just one of the many urgent reasons that they needed to get off the mountain – their first aid supplies were also down to almost nothing. Besides that, Jane was down to her last pair of clean socks again, and they would have to find a water supply in order to be able to wash the blood out of the others. She liked to think that the pair she was wearing over the gauze wouldn't end up smeared with red again, but knew that that might very well happen. The most frustrating thing was that there was nothing she could do about it.

"I can carry you, you know," he told her as he laced up her boots for her. He'd looked up to find her cringing, even as he was being as gentle as humanly possible.

"Kurt, _no_. We're going to be walking all day. And besides, I'm not as light as you think I am, for some reason."

"What? You're saying I can't do it?" he asked, pretending to be offended.

Smiling at him with a mixture of amusement and love for this man who was offering something that would end up being physically impossible, simply because he hated to see her suffer, she just shook her head.

"Save your strength for when I can't walk. If it gets to that point, okay?" she asked, unsure of whether her words would comfort him, or agitate him further.

He hated to think of how much pain Jane would have to have been in before she surrendered completely, but she made an interesting point. Right now she still had the will to go on. If that will ran out, he would have no choice but to carry her. Even though he knew logically that she hadn't meant her words as a promise, he took them that way.

"Right," he replied. "When you can't walk anymore, I get to carry you."

Jane could see that he hadn't quite taken what she'd said quite as hypothetically as she'd meant it, but she supposed that the fact that he wasn't insisting on carrying her anymore for the time being would have to be good enough.

Once again, Kurt stood up and then hoisted Jane up as well, ensuring that she had her balance before dealing with the tarp and once again strapping all three bags to himself securely. "Alright, here we go," he mumbled as he reached his arm around her waist. "Ready?"

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Without having walked a single step, her feet already felt like they were on fire. She tried to envision dousing them with cool water, but at that moment, using her imagination wasn't helping.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and tried to smile. "Let's get this over with," she told him through clenched teeth.

"So," he said as they started walking slowly, "What's worse, blistered feet, or poison ivy all over?"

She chuckled, recognizing yet another effort on his part to distract her from the reality of her situation by bringing up the severe allergic reaction that she'd had to the plant years ago. "That's a tough one," she said slowly, trying to split her focus between putting one foot in front of the other and talking, which wasn't easy. "They both kinda suck."

Chuckling to himself, he nodded, not having expected that particular answer. It wasn't as though he could disagree with her.

"Though if I have to choose, I'm going to say that poison ivy was worse."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" he asked, curious how she had come to her decision so quickly after just having declared that the question was difficult.

"Well," she began slowly. "Even though having poison ivy was almost like a mini vacation from work, and I had your undivided attention for a few weeks… In the end, we went back to being… coworkers. And not just that. Things got a lot worse before they got better. More than once… A _lot_ worse." Her voice had grown quieter and quieter, and by the end it was barely a whisper.

She was remembering now, thinking back to that night, when she'd watched him walk away from her front door, and to that sinking feeling in her stomach. She could smile sadly at that night now, remembering the feeling that it was all over, even if she hadn't known what _"it"_ had been at the time. So much had happened since then. So many painful memories… but so many sweet ones, as well. She had been naïve enough to think that that night was hard. Now, looking back, she felt sorry for the Jane she watched in her mind, because there was so much pain ahead of her. This was silly, of course, because she _was_ that Jane, even if she didn't feel like her, and that pain was in her _past_ not her future.

He swallowed hard, remembering that night just as vividly as she did. "It was stupid to think that that would work," he now announced, and she looked at him in surprise.

"That what would work?" she asked curiously.

"Going backwards. Us. Back to just coworkers." He shook his head then. "No… we were never _just_ coworkers," he told her quietly as they continued walking. "But then, I don't think we were ever _just_ anything."

She nodded, the corners of her mouth in the shape of a smile, but the light that belonged in her eyes wasn't there. Of all the things in the recent past to stew over, he could only hope that she wasn't now adding the old ones back into the mix as well.

"Jane, we made it past that a long time ago," he reminded her. Glancing up at him in surprise, she nodded quickly – too quickly – as if to reassure both of them that she knew that. Of course, he knew her well enough to know that when she did that, it meant that either she didn't believe it, or she at least had doubts.

"I know that look," he told her knowingly, and she looked down at the ground, half smiling, half guilty. They both knew he'd caught her with her head full of doubts, but he let it go. After all, this was a delicate balance they were dealing with, and finding their way back to whatever normal was supposed to be was going to take a very long time. Glancing back up at him uncertainly, she nodded, but said nothing.

"We barely knew anything back then," he continued. "About you… about any of it. So many things have crashed down around us in the time since then… but we've always come back stronger. Haven't we?" He looked down at her, raising his eyebrows.

Now her smile was back, tentative as it was, and the light was back in her eyes as she glanced up at him for a second. That was how he knew he'd gotten through to her.

"Yes, we have," she agreed softly, looking back down at the path ahead of them.

"And we will again," he replied, watching her smile widen even as she didn't look back up at him.

In her chest, it felt as though her heart had just swelled to twice its size, and for a moment she was overcome with the warmth that spread from her chest throughout her entire body. There was no logical reason why he should love her at all, when she thought about it objectively… and yet, not only did he love her, but he did so seemingly without question or hesitation. Which, of course, was an oversimplification, but that was the way it seemed to her at that moment.

After that, they leaned into each other a little more than before, nothing else needing to be said for the time being.

The day was warm, but the air felt sticky more than hot, and their walking, even at their slow pace, didn't help. Now and then he offered her the last remaining water bottle, insisting that she have a sip. She did so only because he refused to relent unless she drank at least a little. It did not escape her attention, however, that he wasn't drinking at all himself, and she started to use that as a bargaining chip. She wouldn't take a sip unless he did. They both knew that their situation was growing desperate, and that if they didn't reach the stream soon, they would have no water at all. There was nothing they could do except continue forward, hoping that the stream would soon come into view.

And yet, once again she was breathing heavily and Kurt slowed to a stop, pulling her to a stop as well. "Jane," he said sternly, stepping in front of her and immediately feeling her lean forward the bulk of her weight against him. "We need to stop and rest."

"We have to get to the stream before we run out of _water_ ," she insisted stubbornly. "You know it's the truth."

He wasn't about to deny his worry that they would run out of water, so he exhaled in frustration.

"I promise to rest when we get to the stream, if that's what you want," she added, the harshness in her voice falling away. "Besides, it can't be _that_ much farther… it's not like we made a wrong turn somewhere."

For a second he wondered, afraid that this could be exactly what had happened, but he reassured himself that there had only been one path down the mountain. They had never come across an alternate route that they could have taken.

"We're not going to die of thirst if we take a 15 minute break," he insisted.

Sighing in resignation, she could see from the look in his eyes that he wasn't going to let up easily. Though she was normally equally stubborn, she didn't have the strength to argue with him right now. She wasn't against taking a break, but she knew that starting again after sitting down was going to feel even worse. At the moment, her feet felt a little bit numb – though she knew better than to say this to Kurt.

"Is the grass wet? Can we just sit right there, save the work of packing and unpacking?" she asked, suddenly feeling the tiredness catch up with her now that she'd stopped moving.

Upon a quick inspection, Kurt stood up, shaking his head. "Not wet," he assured her, already having put down the three bags he'd been carrying and helping Jane lower herself to the ground. He positioned himself behind her, so that she could lean against him, which she did immediately.

Closing her eyes, she tried to ignore the throbbing sensation coming from her feet. She knew that she'd been through worse. Of course she had. She'd been both shot _and_ brutally tortured. Still, she couldn't deny that she was in pain. Leaning her cheek against the cotton of his t-shirt, she attempted to breathe in and out slowly, and to think about something else.

"I don't know why I'm always the lucky one when it comes to feet," Kurt said with a chuckle, out of nowhere.

Jane assumed that he was going to tell another story about Taylor, but no, this one surprised her.

"I'll never forget the year that Sarah had these rainbow sandals. She couldn't have been more than six, maybe seven at the most. They had every color on these things. Horribly tacky, as far as I was concerned – not that I cared one way or the other what my little sister's sandals looked like. But man, she loved those things. She wore them everywhere, and I mean _everywhere._ Literally wore them out."

He had pulled his arms around her without her even noticing, and she wondered if she was going to fall asleep. She knew that she shouldn't, but she also knew that Kurt would encourage her to while she could.

"She had complained to me that her foot was hurting. We were out riding bikes, and I had tiny little Taylor on the back of mine, holding on for dear life…" She could see him smile out of the corner of her eye at the mention of his friend, but she said nothing, not wanting to interrupt. "Sarah said that the bottom of her foot hurt. I told her to show it to me, and wouldn't you know? She'd worn a hole in the bottom of the thing – all the way through. Not just a little hole, either. I looked at the other one, and it was almost as bad. You wouldn't believe how she cried when I took the stupid things away from her."

Despite her exhaustion, Jane couldn't help but smile at that part, chuckling slightly.

"I only managed it when I agreed that she could hold a funeral for them, and bury them in the back yard," Kurt added.

For a second, it was if the air had been vacuumed out of the space that surrounded them.

Of course, they both knew who else had been buried in the Weller's back yard for so many years. "I hadn't thought of that in a long time," Kurt added, suddenly stammering. "Since before we knew…"

Jane turned to look at him, her heart breaking for him for the thousandth time. He met her eyes sadly, and for a split second she saw it – recognition of what they were both thinking. She just nodded, feeling powerless to help him. At the same time, he pulled his arms around her more tightly and breathed in slowly, as if drawing strength from her. Turning slightly, she put her hand over his heart, tucking her shoulder and the side of her face against him. Almost immediately, his hand came up to cover hers, there against his worn out t-shirt. She felt his heartbeat, and in the moment that was all that mattered.

And then he smiled, appearing to force himself back to the original memory, shaking his head and chuckling at his younger sister's childish silliness. "She never did get a pair that she loved quite that much again, as far as I know," he lamented. "Although, her relationship with shoes wasn't damaged by the loss of those, that's for sure."

After they sat in silence for a minute, she leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Come on," she told him. "Let's get going."

Letting out what sounded like a disappointed sigh, he nodded glumly. "It's hard to let you go," he told her with more emotion that his words usually held.

"You're not letting me go, silly," she reminded him. "You're coming along with me. Threatening to _carry_ me, I believe," she reminded him.

"I still might," he replied, the smile returning to his face. Still, he didn't move.

Looking at him with a tender expression, she just shook her head. "My _husband_ and I have somewhere to be," she reminded him. This seemed to do the trick, because he finally removed his hand, still holding hers, from over his heart, loosening the tight cocoon he'd formed around her. He got up first, and then scooped her up once again, gently placing her on her feet and watching her wince for a split second, determination once again taking over.

She reached her hands up to his waist, holding on to steady herself as he loaded the gear back onto his back, and then he put his arm back around her waist, as he had many times before.

They'd taken about five steps when she asked, "Can you see the stream yet?"

"I promise you'll be the first person I tell," he said soothingly, grinning when he saw the unamused look on her face.

"Considering that we're the only ones here, I think I'd be upset if I wasn't the first one you told," she replied, shaking her head at him. He kept chuckling at his own joke as they walked, falling into step beside each other once again.

Jane was trying to occupy her mind with something besides how much her feet hurt. This was dangerous, she knew, and she couldn't afford to stumble across Remi's memories – she couldn't afford to break down again, now that time was so important.

"What other distracting stories do you have for me?" she asked Kurt, who looked over at her in surprise. It wasn't often that Jane asked for help quite so directly, but they both knew that was what she was doing.

She tried not to let her face look as pathetic as she felt just then. "I don't really trust myself to comb through my thoughts at the moment… There's no telling what's in there." At that instant, looking up at him and slightly distracted from the ground in front of her, her foot hit an uneven patch of dirt at just the wrong angle, causing her to put too much weight on it in just the wrong place, and to gasp in unexpected pain. For a second she couldn't breathe, and she held in the feeling of wanting to scream.

Kurt caught her quickly, lifting her off the ground to relieve the pressure on her feet. "Alright," he told her without hesitation. "My turn." He didn't specify exactly what he meant by that, but when he swung her up in front of him, one of his arms now under the back of her knees and the other around her back so that he was carrying her across the front of him, she got the idea quickly.

"Kurt, _no,_ I said if I couldn't walk…" she protested, but he was shaking his head at her sternly.

"I care too much about you to watch you in pain like that any longer. Now, I'm not saying I'm going to carry you the rest of the way home. I probably can't. But at this moment, I'm going to carry you so that you give yourself a break. Do we understand each other?" His words had been stern, but now he was looking at her worriedly, and she felt the fight draining out of her.

 _Would it really be the worst thing to just let him take care of you?_ she asked herself. The answer, of course, was 'of course not.' It just wasn't something she was used to. She was accustomed to sacrificing _her_ well-being for others, not letting people do things for her.

Nodding sheepishly, the words started to tumble out, and she caught them only half way. "I'm s—" Inhaling deeply in frustration, she shook her head. She wanted to say other things too, things that he would tell her were equally unacceptable. Like that she didn't deserve such devotion. That she was fine. That she could handle it all, she'd been through worse.

Instead, she settled on something that was very difficult for her, but that she knew was the right thing to say. He'd told her that he was going to carry her so that she could give herself a break, and he'd asked her if they understood each other.

"Yes."

That was it, just one word. For a second he looked down at her in surprise. He had honestly expected to her fight him on this.

She rolled her eyes at the look of surprise on his face. "Shut up, just keep going," she told her with a grin. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, and she let her head fall wearily against his chest. Of all the places she could have ended up, being carried by Kurt wasn't the worst thing in the world, even if she _was_ pretty sure she could have walked…

 _Just enjoy it_ , the voice in her head told her. It wasn't long before she found her eyes closing. Of course, she felt guilty that Kurt had to carry her, but otherwise she was perfectly content.

It seemed like only minutes later that she woke up. They had stopped, and Kurt was still holding onto her – she was now curled up in his lap as he sat on the ground beside the stream they'd been trying so desperately to reach.


	9. It Takes Time

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

 _A/N: Hopefully **andyrunsandclimbs** , my Wilderness Survival Consultant, will forgive anything in this chapter that seems too ridiculous in a situation like the one Jane and Kurt are in. I defend my choices with A) Jane and Kurt are not experts and B) It was all just too cute and I couldn't resist. :)_

"Hi there. Did you have a nice nap?" Kurt asked when he felt her stirring against him. His voice rumbled in his chest, and she could feel him chuckle.

Her cheeks heated up quickly in embarrassment as a smile spread across her face. "Yeah, sorry, I guess I was tired."

"I got that idea, yeah. Can't imagine why you'd be tired." He let her apology go unmentioned, glad for another moment of peace. Her eyes focused over his shoulder at the fire that he'd built, and the two metal containers full of water that were propped up in the fire, supported by rocks. Turning to follow her gaze, and then back at her, he noticed that she looked surprised.

"You did all that while I was sleeping?" she asked.

"It didn't take long. I was surprised you didn't wake up when I set you down. Or when I picked you back up, for that matter."

"How far did you walk before you got to the stream?" she wanted to know.

He shrugged, thought for a minute, and then replied, "Maybe half an hour. Not long. Honestly I was making pretty good time, all things considered."

"Without me slowing you down, you mean?" she asked jokingly.

"Absolutely," he replied, receiving a playful punch.

"How many water bottles do we have to fill up?" she asked, looking back at the boiling water.

"At least six, I think. They should all be in your bag," he told her with a grin.

"Why in my bag?"

"Because they're light when they're empty. That way, if decided to be stubborn and insist on carrying your bag, it was as light as possible." He looked quite proud of himself for having done this, and she just shook her head at him, leaning back down against his chest once more.

"So, in order to boil that much water… basically we're going to be here for a little while." It was a statement, but also a question. "Right?" she asked, a familiar edge creeping into her voice.

"Well… yes. We have to boil the water to make sure it's safe to drink, and we can't put it in the bottles when it's scalding hot…" He stopped, understanding the frustration he was seeing on her face. "I know, Jane, we don't have time to lose. Trust me. But we need _clean_ water, not just water, so… we can enjoy a little rest while we restock our water supply. Alright?"

She nodded, grudgingly accepting what he was saying. She hadn't noticed that he'd put out the tarp already, but when she looked at the ground in front of her, she saw that they were sitting on it.

"Let me take your boots off those poor feet," he told her soothingly, and was surprised when she shook her head.

"It'll just feel worse when it's time to put them back on," she protested weakly. "Besides, we're out of anything to re-wrap them in."

"That's where you're wrong," he told her. "Now that we have water, I can wash your socks, and even the gauze, I think…" he mused, suddenly uncertain. "Anyway, I can definitely wash your socks."

"You'd wash my socks?" she asked, unsure why that small idea suddenly made her feel overwhelmed all over again.

Chuckling, he added, "Well, of course. Why? Do you have something else you'd like washed? Because my resources are limited out here…" The look on his face was slightly suggestive, and she couldn't help but chuckle along with him.

"The socks are a good start. I'll take you up on the 'something else,' when we get home," she replied.

"Why don't I put my pack over here so you can lie down and put your feet up?" he suggested.

"Not yet," she said quickly, which made him stop and look at her in surprise. "You're going to get up when the water boils anyway, right? To move the containers so they can cool?"

"Guess I'll have to," he agreed.

"Ok, then let's just sit right here, like this, until then," she suggested. "It won't be long, but I don't want you to get up until you have to."

He chuckled softly and nodded in agreement. "I think I can handle that request," he said, tightening his hold on her where she sat, across his lap.

They watched the stream beside them, enjoying the sounds of the water moving by and some distant birds that they couldn't see, but whose calls they could hear. If not for their lack of food and water, how far they still were from civilization, the state of Jane's feet and the desperate situation that their friends might be in at that moment, this might have been paradise. It was hard to push all of those things out of her head, but when she looked around and focused only on the moment she was in just then, she had to admit that this place she'd stumbled into accidentally was beautiful. She hadn't been able to appreciate the scenery on the way up the mountain, since she'd been so desperately running away, not realizing that it was in vain, but she certainly saw it now.

Much too soon, the water boiled, and Kurt had to extricate himself from the form that the two of them had molded into together. He set her down gently on the tarp, moving his pack close to her, as promised, and then lifting her feet up on top of it. He hadn't yet taken her boots off, but that would happen shortly. Her feet now on the large bag, she lay on her back and looked at the sky. There'd been only a cloud or two when they'd started that morning, but now the sky seemed to have suddenly turned ominously dark.

"Hey, Kurt," she called, still staring upwards at the sky and quickly becoming concerned about the chance of more rain.

"Yeah, I was just noticing those clouds, too." His voice came from off to the side, and she turned her head to look in his direction just as she felt the first raindrop on her cheek.

"We have a problem, don't we?" she asked, trying not to panic, frustrated that there was very little she could do but watch as he moved quickly, deliberately.

"I'm on it. Just give me a second," was his reply as he began moving quickly.

Without another word, Kurt got to work. First, he unrolled the second tarp and spread it out as far as he could without spending extra time on it. Next he gathered all of the kindling from beside the fire and threw it onto the tarp. After that, he picked up the two smaller bags and put them beside the kindling, then came back over and quickly but carefully put her feet back down on the ground, off of his bag, so he could pick it up. Laying the large bag on the tarp as well, he gathered the corners and carefully tied them the best he could, as quickly as he could.

Clearly, he had planned this out in his head, because he seemed to know exactly what he was doing. He set the tied up tarp down on the edge of theirs, rolling it over once so it looked like just a very large lump. He'd already taken the metal containers out of the fire, and now he picked up one other identical container and set it out beside the others. The rain was coming down harder now, though not hard enough that they were more than damp. Still, in another few minutes, they would be. This, after all, was how the problem with Jane's feet had started in the first place.

Finally, he came back over to her and laid down beside her, grabbing the edge of the tarp and, to her surprise, lifting himself up and shifting so that he was directly above her. She was even more surprised by what he said next.

"We're going to roll up in the tarp, okay?" he asked, their faces close together.

"Okay," she replied. After all, it certainly wasn't the strangest thing that she'd ever done.

Nodding quickly, he wasted no time. "One, two, three," he counted, and on three, they rolled themselves to her right, towards the empty part of the tarp, finally coming to rest beside the bulge that was the rest of their belongings, wrapped up in the other tarp.

"This is an unusual kind of shelter," she told him with a grin, their faces now even closer together. She was surprised to find that though she could feel the rain falling on the tarp, now above her back, since she had ended up on top of him when they'd stopped rolling, they didn't seem to be getting wet. Still, she pulled her legs in as far as she could, just to be safe.

"We're not getting rained on," he pointed out, pretending that practicality was the only thing on his mind at that moment.

"You know, this reminds me of something," she told him. "Except it's not as cold this time." The grin that had already been on his face spread wider, until it reached from ear to ear.

"I like this time better than that time," he said quietly, his voice coming out as a low rumble once again, one that she could feel as well as hear, since she was lying on top of him.

"Oh, really? Why?" she asked curiously. Having what seemed like a normal conversation with him while holding her face only inches above his was a little… strange. And very distracting.

"Well, as much as that time did have its advantages, like the whole 'take off your clothes to preserve body heat' thing…" Now she was grinning just as wide as he was, moving her face even closer to his but still keeping a sliver of air between them while she waited to hear what he would say. "This time is better because, well, I don't feel awkward about doing this."

She'd been about to close the tiny distance left between them herself, but in the end he beat her to it. After all, as he'd said, the time they'd been stuck in the sleeping bag in the middle of a blizzard, they hadn't been at a point in their relationship where he could have kissed her the way he was kissing her now and felt anything but awkward afterwards. Now, of course, despite the additional baggage between them, they were in a very different place. After the past few days – much less the previous _months_ – of heartache, and now the beginning of healing between them, being wrapped up inside a tarp together in the rain was far more comfortable than that sleeping bag had been years ago.

Besides, until the rain stopped, there really wasn't anything else for them to do but entertain themselves in these very close quarters. Neither of them were complaining, that was for sure.

They'd rolled themselves up tightly, so shifting of positions wasn't really an option other than the very slightest movements, so doing more than kissing wasn't going to be an option. Still, all things considered, it wasn't exactly a bad way to ride out a rainstorm.

At some point they stopped for air, breathing hard and just grinning at each other. "I'm liking rain more and more every time," Jane remarked, catching her breath.

It was another one of those times when Kurt's relief at having found his wife overwhelmed him, and try as he might, it wasn't something that he could keep from showing on his face. He was smiling at her, but he knew that she saw the rest of the emotions there, too. He knew it because every time he got that feeling that she could so clearly read, it was only a matter of seconds before her face began to fall. Though he wished he could explain to her that this wasn't something that should make her sad, he hadn't yet succeeded. After all, she'd always carried around an excessive amount of guilt that didn't belong to her, and now that she perceived herself as having done something to him… Well, getting them back to New York was only going to be the first part of the journey for them.

They were still so close together, and he could see the anguish and regret, as well as all of the things that she showered herself with that he wished she wouldn't. It was overtaking her as he watched.

"Jane," he whispered, hoping to catch her before her mind took her down a path that would lead back inside her head. "I'm so glad… that we're both as stubborn as we are. You have no idea what it means to me, that you did what you did." He let the words sink in for a few seconds, and now her expression mostly reflected confusion. Now smiling more genuinely, with a little less pain attached, he found that he might finally have found the words to explain it to her. "What I mean is, it means a lot to me that you did what you did – not because I would _ever_ want you to leave – but because you thought it was the only way to keep me safe. But let me ask you something, okay?"

She nodded, breathing unevenly but keeping her eyes focused on him. "We've _both_ done things that we wish we hadn't, right?"

Though she was pretty sure she knew where he was going with this question, she didn't try to cut him off, simply nodding her head and looking at him, feeling the sensation of falling in her stomach.

"Do you still hold it against me for…" The words were painful, but he forced them out. "…For arresting you, back when we found out…?" His voice cracked at the end of his sentence, and he chose to leave the last few words unsaid. He'd said enough that she understood, after all.

"Of course not," she whispered.

"I'm not proud of that, and it's something that I can undo, no matter how much I wish I could. I did something that hurt you _badly,_ and _not_ because I was doing it for your own good. No, I was angry. I have no defense for myself. I was just so angry..." He looked at her, wondering if his words were sinking in. More than likely, she wasn't going to make the connection herself – just another example of her stubbornness.

"Kurt, that doesn't matter. It was so long ago. We're past it," she protested.

"But you don't hold it against me, right?" he asked.

"No, I told you. Of course not." She shook her head vigorously for emphasis.

"Well then, how in the world could you think that I would hold it against you for doing something out of _love_ for me…? And not _just_ love. A love so big that you ignored how much you hurt _yourself_ , because, as usual, you put someone else's well-being above your own."

She stared at him, blinking in confusion, unable to process what he was saying to her.

"Jane… If you can forgive me for doing something that I did solely out of anger and hurt, neither of which you deserved to have directed at you, then you should be able to forgive yourself for something you did to protect me. Okay?"

But she was shaking her head, slowly at first, and then faster, as if the more she thought about it, the more her thoughts were picking up speed, moving her head with them. "It's not the same," she whispered, her eyes closing in frustration.

"No, it's not the same," he told her bluntly. "What I did was much _worse_. And yet, for some reason you love me, and want to protect me at the expense of your life, which I'm not going to let you do. I need you _with me_ too badly for that. So if you want to, think of this as me being selfish. Whatever works. But not only are you _not_ Remi, you're _not_ a danger to me, and this whole trek across the Earth and back, no matter what you think, is _not_ something that you get to blame yourself for. Alright? We're here now, and we're going home. Those are the facts, but you don't get to bully yourself with them."

Stunned, she stared at him for almost a minute. His words had been… not quite harsh, but more insistent than usual. But looking into his eyes, there was only tenderness. Even though she still didn't quite believe him, there was something about the way he insisted that he wasn't going to take no for an answer… after all, their equal stubbornness was both a blessing and a curse, both to themselves and to each other. Even though it made him maddeningly frustrating, at the same time it was soothing to know that he was going to hold onto her just as fiercely as she was going to hold onto him, even if it still didn't make any sense to her.

"I know that it's going to take time… after all of this. For both of us. But what I want you to understand is that you did _not_ do anything that we can't get past, okay? And I'm going to tell you that as many times as you need to hear it."

"Okay," she said simply, suddenly feeling exhausted just from processing what he'd said to her.

"I love you," he told her sincerely. "And that's not going to change."

Nodding, she smiled a suspiciously watery smile, watching every movement he made as he leaned forward to kiss her again, his time slowly, sweetly, a kiss that ended almost as quickly as it had started so that he could lean back and look into her eyes, his concern obvious.

"I love you, too," she whispered, turning her head so that she could lean down to her right, against his left shoulder, so that she was facing his neck. At that moment, lying there pressed against him, she felt more at peace than she could remember being since before she'd left New York.

He turned his head just enough to kiss her forehead, then let his face rest again hers instead of moving away. His arms had been wrapped around her tightly this whole time, and he slowly moved his left hand from her back, maneuvering it in the tight space until he could use it to push her hair off of her forehead, her ponytail having become loose and disheveled long ago.

"I wish it hadn't taken us so long to… figure it all out. That we were right for each other," he whispered.

Shrugging slightly, she chuckled. "You're stubborn," she replied, as if that explained it all, immediately feeling the rumble of laughter beneath her.

" _We_ 're stubborn, I think you mean," he corrected her. "Which is part of why it works so well."

"Stubborn? _Me_? You must be mistaken," she told him, grinning even though he couldn't see her face from their angle.

He just laughed as he pulled her tighter, kissing her forehead again.

That warmth in her chest was back, and she swore her heart was about to burst. While most of the strong emotions that she was used to revolved around pain of one kind or another, this was unlike those times. What she felt now was happiness as intense as the pain she'd felt in the past.

The rain continued to fall in a steady patter against the tarp, not a torrential downpour, but certainly hard enough that they would have been soaked, were they not covered. They laid and listened to it, relishing the feeling of being there together, the edge of their feelings still jagged and tender, but beginning to heal nonetheless. It was a little sweaty there, pressed together and wrapped in plastic, but the temperature had dropped slightly with the rain, so at least it wasn't as warm as it might have been.

After what had begun to feel like an endless string of days making their way down the mountain, reaching the stream was their first real milestone. The next one would be the village, and after that, the rest of the way home would _hopefully_ be faster and easier than the trip had been so far. But as long as they had each other, he couldn't help but feel that none of the rest of it really mattered.

Kurt realized that she had fallen asleep, and he began to feel sleepy himself as well. He'd been carrying all of their packs, and earlier he'd carried Jane herself, and as strong as he was, it was a little extra tiring. At this point, waiting out the rain seemed like an excellent reason to go to sleep.

For some reason, at that moment he flashed back to the first day he'd attempted to sleep after Jane had left. That night, and every night after that, had been filled with a rush of doubt, loneliness, disbelief and an aching feeling that a part of him was missing. That part of him wasn't missing anymore, however, he wasn't sure he would ever be able to forget that feeling. Even now, holding onto her tightly, it felt as though he would never be able to completely let go of how scared he'd been that he would never find her. The feeling would fade, he hoped, but right now it was hard to imagine it ever leaving him completely.

That was when he remembered something that he'd once said to Jane. It was after Patterson had lost David. Jane had said that she'd never lost anyone that she cared about, at least that she could remember, so she hadn't been able to conceive of how her friend would be able to get past the pain she was feeling. In response, Kurt had told her, _"You're lucky. It takes time."_ Of course, he'd been referring to Taylor, and by 'takes time,' he'd meant that it had taken his whole life. He still wasn't over Taylor, and he was pretty sure that he never would be – not completely.

 _Will this feeling haunt me the same way Taylor does?_ he wondered.

Of course, this was different. He had her back. But that feeling... It was different than it had been with Taylor, of course. The situation was different. Obviously the disappearance of a five year old is horrifying in a different way than that of an adult, but in most other ways, Jane's leaving had been even worse for him. After all, she'd _decided_ to go, not been taken, as Taylor had. While he now understood that her motives had been so purely selfless that it made his heart hurt for her just to think about it, that didn't erase the memory of how very badly it had hurt him at the time. Most of the time, looking at her and knowing the truth was enough to sooth the wound that remained, but in the quiet moments like these, where he was alone with his thoughts, he was discovering that it wasn't quite as healed over as he'd hoped.

 _It takes time,_ he repeated to himself. _It's only been a few days. Just keep breathing._

He'd told Jane to keep breathing many times, and it had seemed to work. So he focused on filling and emptying his lungs, and on the feeling of Jane's weight against him, his face pressed against her skin and both his arms now once again wrapped around her tightly. There were moments where just breathing was enough of a challenge, and this was one of them. He knew that it would pass, however, and he also knew from experience that it would get better. After all, while the time without her had _felt_ like an eternity, it had had a happy ending. With so many things in their lives that were wrong, the fact that nothing had broken them apart was truly a miracle. And he planned to keep it that way.

She didn't realize that she had fallen asleep until she woke up, lifting her head groggily off of him to try to look around. As the skin of her forehead brushed against his and she saw him open his eyes to look at her, she couldn't help but smile.

There was something in his eyes that wasn't usually there, and she tried to push past the grogginess of just having woken up to figure out what it was. His face cleared as he looked at her, however, his expression melting into a smile before her eyes. Satisfied that nothing was seriously wrong, she laid her head back where it had been when she'd opened her eyes – against his skin.

"I missed you," he whispered. "While you were asleep."

Chuckling softly, she shook her head at him. She didn't doubt his sincerity about the sentiment, it just sounded so ridiculously… _sweet_. And while he had always been good to her – well, with a few exceptions that she would ignore – she wasn't used to quite this level of affection from him, both in his words and his actions.

 _That's not a bad thing,_ she reminded herself. _This whole thing has reminded him how important you are to him._ No, she certainly had no complaints about that, even if it would require some getting used to.

As they lay quietly together, they realized almost at the same time that they weren't hearing any more rain. It was almost disappointing to think about extricating themselves from their cocoon, however, that was the only way to replenish their water supply, which was an essential step on the trip back home. After allowing themselves another decadent minute or two of lying there still, Kurt was the one to voice what they both knew.

"Time to unroll ourselves and see just how dry things did or did not stay," he told her, to which she just nodded against him. "Ready? On three we roll back out."

"Okay," she agreed, smiling when he kissed her forehead again.

"One… two… three…"

Slowly, holding on tightly to each other, they began unrolling themselves, the tarp spreading back out across the ground as they went until they were back where they'd started. Once again, Kurt was bracing himself above her, and neither of them could resist one more kiss before they sat up to assess the results of Kurt's quick "waterproofing."

Finally, Kurt rolled over on his side so that he was no longer above her, reluctantly pulling himself to sit up and then looking around at the damp scene around them. The fire, of course, was out, their containers of water now full to the brim. That was good news, since it meant less time boiling water.

Jane pushed herself to sit up as well. "So far it looks like your quick thinking paid off," she told him. "The real question is, what about all the stuff in that tarp?" She nodded towards the lump at the other end of the tarp on which they were sitting, where Kurt had wrapped all of the belongings they had with them, as well as the kindling. After all, dry firewood was essential if they were going to have to boil any more water.

"Only one way to find out," he said with a shrug, sounding much less worried than he actually felt. Standing up, he walked over and slowly turned the large bundle over, releasing it from the edge of the tarp he was standing it on, which had been wrapped around it loosely, and then moving it back onto the dirt before untying the ends.

"What's the damage?" Jane called from where she sat.

"Looks like it worked, believe it or not," he replied, smiling in surprise.

"That's amazing," she grinned.

"So first order of business is filling up as many of the water bottles as possible," he told her, already starting to open her backpack to take them out. "So we can see how much more water needs to be boiled." When he'd finished, he'd filled up three of the six water bottles, which was more than he'd expected. After that, he set about using the kindling that had been packaged in the tarp to start another fire. It took a little while on the wet ground, but he got it going, balancing two metal containers in the fire on the same rocks that he'd used before.

When he was done, he sat back down beside Jane, pulling out what remained of their food. It was past lunch time, probably closer to mid-afternoon by now, and they hadn't eaten since that morning. Kurt put an assortment of the fruit and nuts in his palm and held them out to her, waiting until she held her hands open in a bowl-like shape so that he could let them fall into it before taking any for himself. She looked from the food to him and back again, not needing to say anything for him to know that she was worried about their food supply.

"I know," he mumbled. "But we're almost there, okay? We need to eat _something_. You especially." The look she gave him then told him that she didn't like to be singled out in this regard, because of course, as she usually was, she was more worried about him than she was herself. She said nothing, however, simply ate the food that he had given her and took a sip from what had been the last of their original water supply, finishing the bottle between the two of them just in time to fill it up again.

In only a few minutes, they were finished with what little food they allowed themselves, and the fire was still warming the water up. Once again, there was nothing to do but wait.

"Oh, while we're sitting here… I'd almost forgotten about washing out your socks," he realized, turning to move himself close enough to this pack that he could reach in and fish out her blood-stained socks and the small packet of soap that would hopefully clean them out. Once he'd found what he was looking for, he sat back up, once again beside Jane, also setting one of the newly refilled water bottles in front of them.

"I'll hold them, and could you pour just enough water on them to get them damp enough that I can use the soap?" he asked.

"Of course," Jane replied, opening the water bottle and pouring the water that had been so hard to get slowly over her socks, which he held out, over the ground. The last thing they needed was water on their tarp.

"That's enough," he told her in a few seconds. Working quickly, he lathered the stained socks with soap in his hands until there was a mass of white bubbles and not much else was visible. He moved the bubbles aside from time to time to assess his progress, finally satisfied a few minutes later. "Alright, now let's slowly rinse out," he told her, glancing up quickly and smiling.

When her socks were sufficiently rinsed and squeezed out, they laid them out on the tarp, closest to the fire. "We should take those boots off of you, let your feet air out for however long we're here," he told her, knowing the reaction he was going to get.

"Shouldn't we wait until I know I'll have dry socks?" she asked in an attempt to stall.

"I think by the time we're ready to go, they'll be dry," he assured her, seeing through her ploy. He was already reaching for one of her feet to pull her boot into his lap.

Jane closed her eyes and sighed, nodding, knowing that there was no way she was going to talk him out of it, but dreading both the sight of her feet and the reality of having to put her boots back on, _again_ , when it was time for them to go. She felt him loosening the laces and then very slowly pulling off the boot, and she waited for him to gasp at what he saw. However, no such noise came, and a few seconds later she peeked her eyes open reluctantly to see for herself how her foot looked.

It didn't look _good…_ but it also wasn't quite as bad as the last time she'd seen it. The sock over the gauze wasn't as white as it had been when she put it on, but it also wasn't as bloody as the last one she'd taken off. She supposed that that counted for progress at the moment.

"See? Not so bad," he said encouragingly.

"I think that might be a slightly optimistic assessment…" Jane replied, shaking her head.

"Well, I feel like being optimistic. After all, we've made it this far, haven't we?"

He set her foot down gently on his lap and reached for the other one, to repeat the process as she just stared at him in surprise. Really, she couldn't argue with him. They had, indeed, made it this far, after all.

Once her boots were off and her feet were once again elevated on top of his backpack, he took the containers of water, which had boiled, away from the fire to cool. She kept her eyes on him the whole time, feeling like if she looked away, he might somehow vanish into thin air. It was all just surreal. When he finished what he was doing, he walked back over and lay down beside her, on her left, propping himself up on his right elbow so that he could lie on his side, leaning closer to her. Her hands were clasped together, resting on her stomach, and he brought his left hand up and laid it on top of both of hers, his fingers curling around them.

 _This is all I need_ , he thought happily.

Yes, they were temporarily stuck out here, in the middle of nowhere, still probably a day's walk, if not more, away from a village that couldn't really even be considered civilization, with almost no food left and a minimal amount of water. No shelter. No medical supplies beyond the few odds and ends that were left in the first aid kit. No way to defend themselves, though that thankfully hadn't been necessary so far, Jane barely able to walk, and the knowledge that they had to get home, because their team was depending on them.

And yet, at that moment he was at peace, looking into her eyes with a smile that said exactly that, and best of all, seeing the same smile reflected right back at him.


	10. Not Much Farther

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

What Jane wouldn't have given for a dryer. She could deal with damp clothing, though it felt cold and clammy, but now they were just waiting for her stupid socks to dry and they could keep moving. It had been about an hour since it had rained, and she felt like time was standing still.

Their water supply would be completely full as soon as they poured the last of what they had boiled into the bottles, but as long as they were still waiting for her socks to dry anyway, they let the water sit a little longer to cool. Jane was ready to say "That hell with it, they're fine," but Kurt had already reminded her multiples times that wet socks were what had started this nightmare to begin with. Well, the part of it that dealt with her feet, anyway.

And so there was nothing to do but wait. The dark clouds had blown away, leaving only a smattering of puffy white ones in their wake. Kurt had insisted that Jane should have her feet up, and he'd moved to sit behind her once again. He was leaning back, with his arms braced behind him, and Jane, in turn, was leaned against him at the same angle. However, unable to accept that both of his hands were busy with the mundane task of holding him up, he'd quickly managed to balance all of his weight on his left arm so that his right arm was free to wrap around her. Carefully, without putting either of them off balance, she had leaned into his arm.

They'd moved to the other end of the tarp, repositioning it so they could sit closer to the fire. The air was warm enough to be comfortable as they sat under the now-sunny sky, but also cool enough that the warmth of the fire felt nice on their skin. Between the two of them, they checked the dampness of her socks no less than every five minutes, inching them slowly closer and closer to the fire in an attempt to speed the dry process along. While they enjoyed the excuse to rest, now that they had restocked on water their main concern had become their dwindling food supply, and they knew that they needed to continue along the path.

Jane checked her socks again and sighed in frustration. They were so close, but just not _quite_ there. Just like she swore they'd been the last 10 times she'd picked them up.

"You know, they don't dry faster if you pick them up more often to check," he observed with a smirk. He knew that she didn't actually think they would, but that she was simply frustrated and impatient. They'd now been sitting by the stream for a good chunk of the day, which wasn't getting them to the village any faster. Letting out an exasperated sigh, she turned them over again, replacing them by the fire and crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

Behind her, she felt his chest rumbling with gentle laughter once again. She knew that he wasn't actually laughing at her, that he was just amused by her, but she simply couldn't help feeling even more annoyed than she already had been. It was probably a combination of already being a little bit hungry along with frustrated and impatient – not a good combination for either of them.

He could see that she needed another distraction, and he'd just begun to try to think back and pluck out a good story from his past to tell her when, as if she had taken the words right out of his head, she suddenly murmured, "So what other story haven't I heard about young Kurt?"

The memory hit her suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, the same way the flashbacks of being Remi had done the first few times. This wasn't Remi's memory, however, but Janes, but it was from far enough back to be from the time that she wished she could forget.

 _Tell us a story, Taylor,_ the voice boomed in her head. _Something happy._

Even from behind her, Kurt knew from the way that she froze that something had just changed. He hadn't even had time to answer her question, basically asking him to tell her a story…

The words echoed in the back of his mind for a second, like something that he should remember, but the connection wasn't quite there. He knew that it was important, though, so he repeated them over and over.

 _Any other story…?  
_

 _Tell me a story…_

 _Tell her a story…_

 _Tell_ _ **us**_ _a story…_

He froze, suddenly remembering. She had been sitting rigidly for the past few seconds while he processed the words that he knew should be familiar, and then while he realized why. His father had said words similar enough to what she had just said herself to her one morning, when she had come to Kurt's apartment to visit. When they'd thought she was Taylor.

His father's words.

His father, who had _killed_ Taylor.

His father, who had called Jane 'Taylor,' knowing very well the whole time that Jane _wasn't_ Taylor...

And he'd left Jane alone with his father when he'd gone to meet Mayfair that morning. Never mind that his father had been in no position to hurt anyone, least of all Jane, who could hold her own against the strongest of assailants… That wasn't the point.

He needed to look into her eyes, then, to reassure both of them. "Jane," he said worriedly, scooting out from behind her slowly, so she didn't fall backwards. Keeping his left arm on her back, he moved around to the side of her so that he was facing her, but sitting beside her.

Jane was biting her lip, staring forward, breathing deliberately.

 _It doesn't matter. It's fine,_ she told herself. She was vaguely conscious of Kurt shifting behind her, of him moving until he was beside her, but she didn't look at him, unable to bring herself to move except to sit up taller so that she didn't fall backwards.

He wanted to sit directly in front of her and look into her eyes, which he couldn't do when her legs were out in front of her, so he took her feet down off of his backpack one at a time. As he did, she pulled them in against her chest, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Jane," he said evenly, now shifting again, until he was sitting cross-legged directly in front of her. He gently laid his hands on her knees, and she looked up at him for the first time, her eyes suddenly haunted. "Don't," he whispered, unable to come up with anything better.

She shook her head slowly, looking down again. "It doesn't matter," she mumbled. "Besides, I did _that_ to myself." Her breath came out as a choked sob, and when she looked back up, she almost looked afraid.

"No, Jane, you didn't," he told her evenly. She leaned forward, hugging her arms tightly around her knees, as his arms snaked around her slowly. Once he saw that she wasn't going to resist, he put his arms all the way around her, lifting her back up onto his lap where she'd woken up earlier.

"There are a lot of people who did a lot of things that led to what happened to you." He spoke slowly, evenly. "You made choices along the way, but unlike the people around you, your choices – Jane's – were never malicious." He saw the argument in her eyes before it reached her lips, and he shook his head. "No one is perfect, Jane, and I know that better than most," he continued. "But when it comes to _anything_ that deals with my father… No. You did _not_ do that."

What he'd said made sense, she was just so spooked by the connection that her brain had made to that one particular morning. No matter how she tried, it felt like she couldn't quite recover her footing.

She sat on his lap and breathed in and out slowly, appreciating him even more than she had five minutes before. Somehow, he knew when she needed him to give her a hard time about things, and when she needed him to remember how much she had been through, and treat her more gently… even when she didn't know those things herself. It was just one more thing about him that she loved.

"I know, I just…" Again, she exhaled loudly, leaning against him. "I'm s—" She stopped herself, and seemed to lose the will to try to form a sentence after that.

"You're not allowed to be sorry, and you're not allowed to feel bad, not about any of it," he told her soothingly, leaning his face against her forehead and kissing it gently. Aiming for a touch of levity, he added, "After all, we've _both_ been through too much to expect not to be really, really messed up."

That wasn't what she'd been expecting to hear, and she laughed suddenly – though her laugh was more hollow than happy. "Well that much I have definitely accomplished," she said ruefully.

"You and me both, sweetheart... And you know what? I love that about you."

She leaned back just enough to give him a look that told him that he was completely insane. "You love that I'm… _broken_?"

"You are _not_ broken," he told her emphatically. "Bruised, maybe… but not broken," he assured her with a smile. "Besides… it made you who you are. The most caring, empathetic, strongest person I've ever known. The most stubborn, too," he added as an afterthought, making her laugh. There was a pause, when he simply held onto her and listened to the stream water rushing by them.

"I wish I could make it all disappear for you," he told her sincerely, "All the bad parts."

"I know," she replied wearily. "But you do the next best thing." He raised his eyebrows curiously, and she couldn't help but smile. "You make me feel like all my flaws are strengths," she replied quietly.

"They are," he said with a smile. She shook her head, and he looked at her as if daring her to correct him, so she just laughed again. "Guess what?" he asked quietly, as if he had a secret to tell her.

"What?" she whispered.

"I'll bet those socks are dry by now."

Her face lit up then, and she forgot all about the memory of Bill Weller she'd had. She leaned in to kiss him quickly, then lifted herself off of his lap and reached across the tarp to where her socks had been drying for what felt like days. Sure enough, she now had two pairs of clean, _dry_ socks. Her feet were raw and tender and she had nothing but her socks to cover the blisters with, but since they were now supposedly so close to the village, it felt like their lack of anything to wrap around her feet seemed like something that she could deal with.

"You know what this means?" he asked, holding out a hand for two of the four socks, which she handed to him without complaint.

"It means that we might actually make it off this damn mountain," she replied happily. Re-energized, she lifted her feet into his lap and smiled at him as he gently pulled a sock onto one foot, and then the other. Managing not to grimace as he lifted her right foot into the first of her boots, she felt her energy suddenly returning.

 _I can do this,_ she thought with determination.

He watched the change in her before his eyes. This was yet another thing he loved about her – her ability to rebound from adversity.

"Do you want something to eat before we go?" he asked, knowing that there was barely anything left, but at the same time, not wanting her to be hungry. He'd gladly give up his share, if necessary.

"Nope, let's just go," she replied, just as he'd expected.

Standing up first, he helped her up and watched her reaction to standing on her own two feet for the first time in quite a few hours. It seemed that the rest had done her good this time, because she appeared to be in notably less pain than she had been before.

"How are you doing?" he asked her as he put away the two tarps and hoisted the bags onto his back.

"Better than last time," she acknowledged. "Beyond that… who knows?"

"I'll take it," he told her, reaching for her hand and then, once he had it in his, leaning down to kiss her again. "You need help?"

Watching her take a few tentative steps to determine the answer for herself, she looked a little wobbly, so he stepped closer to her hand released his hand from hers, sliding it around her waist.

"Better safe than sorry," he murmured.

"So let's go," Jane replied impatiently, bouncing slightly.

Kurt could only chuckle. "Easy," he cautioned her. "You're going to need to be gentle on those feet, or they're going to be screaming in pain again."

She seemed to be feeling more like herself again, that was for sure, and it was a relief. They set off at a slow but steady pace, despite Jane's impatience, quickly leaving the stream behind as it bent and twisted its way out of sight of the path. The day was wearing on quickly, and they knew that there were only a few hours of daylight left before they would be forced to stop. Still, there was a renewed optimism between them. They'd overcome a major hurdle – reaching the stream before they ran out of water – and now they moved on to the next one – arriving in the village before hunger became too overwhelming.

But once again, the afternoon was clear and not too hot, the sun already falling behind the other side of the mountain. They made far better time in those few hours than they had in the past few days, both of their spirits buoyed by the knowledge that they were finally close to the first real destination on their way back to civilization.

They walked until they could no longer reasonably pretend that night wasn't falling, but eventually they had to surrender to the fact that it was almost dark. When Kurt finally pointed this out, Jane sighed and agreed that it was time to stop.

"I'd expected you to say that a half hour ago," she admitted, looking around at the gathering darkness. "We'd better find something to use to build a fire before we lose the light completely."

"I wanted to make up as much distance as we could," he replied, setting down the backpacks as they quickly scouted the area. "And you did great."

"All I did was walk, same as you," she insisted, looking at him and making a face as they moved around looking for firewood. After that they focused on finding enough sticks to build a fire.

They didn't find quite as much in the way of usable kindling as they'd hoped, but they gathered everything they _did_ find, bringing it back and quickly getting a small fire started. They set out one of the tarps nearby, close but not too close, and unrolled the sleeping bag.

As they sat down at the edge of the tarp to take off their boots, he looked over at her. "How are your feet?" he asked.

"Well, they hurt," she replied, "but just the normal amount that you'd expect for all the walking we've been doing. They don't feel like there's a mutiny happening inside my socks."

He chuckled at the image of tiny pirates stabbing her feet with swords smaller than toothpicks, nodding back at her. "That's good. Let's see how they look."

She pulled her right foot, then her left, out of her boots and looked at them in surprise. It felt like so long since she'd been able to do so without finding her socks to be a bloody mess, she was actually surprised when she saw only a few spots of slight discoloration against the white cotton.

"Hey, that's a big improvement," he observed, watching her smile.

"Yeah, I guess I'm going to make it after all," she joked.

"Oh, you were _always_ going to make it," he informed her, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "There was no way I was going to accept anything else."

Now it was her turn to chuckle at him. "So stubborn," she murmured, shaking her head.

"You know it," he agreed with a grin. He'd taken out the small bundle that remained of their food. There wasn't much to speak of, and he put half of it into the palm of his hand. The fact that half of what was left _fit_ in the palm of his hand was concerning, but that was neither here nor there. "Let's share this," he told her, holding his hand over her lap as an excuse to move closer to her.

He saw the concern in her eyes at how little they had left, and he just nodded. "It's better than nothing," he told her. "Now don't argue with me. Eat. Something is better than nothing. And we'll have real food tomorrow."

Saying nothing, she took a deep breath and nodded, trying not to look as uncertain as she felt. Her optimism from that afternoon was fading, but she was determined not to give up. After all, as Kurt had said, they'd make it this far. Besides, she told herself, humans could survive without food for three weeks, and it wasn't going to take anywhere near that long to reach the village. Feeling slightly better about their situation, she smiled up at him tiredly and then look some nuts from his palm.

"Agreed," she replied. It only took a few minutes before his hand was empty, and he put away the rest of the food.

"Bedtime," he declared, and she nodded, a yawn escaping from her. He took out their toothbrushes and toothpaste, handing her hers. "And maybe tomorrow we can sleep in a _bed_."

"That sounds nice," she agreed, "although I have to say, I'm not at all complaining about the sleeping bag situation."

"And it's a good thing you're not, considering that we somehow seem to keep ending up in places where we have to share," he observed with a smile, pulling off his shirt and standing up. "I'm certainly not complaining either." He winked at her, pulling the rest of his clothes off without hesitation and climbing into the sleeping bag as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "You joining me? Or just enjoying the show?" he asked when he saw that she was still sitting still, watching him.

"Uh, yes. I mean, both. Sorry, I got distracted just watching you," she murmured with a grin, slowly standing up and removing her clothes as well, feeling self-conscious about the fact that she had his _full_ attention.

 _Don't be ridiculous,_ she told herself. _It's nothing he hasn't seen before._ That had always been strange… knowing that, even so very long ago when they barely knew each other, the entire team spent their days staring at pictures of her in which she was completely naked. At this point, it _really_ shouldn't have been anything she thought twice about, of course. They were _married,_ for goodness sake. Still, even after a few nights back together, she couldn't help but blush as he watched her get undressed and then move towards him.

"Come on, it's warm in here already," he told her with a smile.

"You _are_ a furnace, after all," she agreed. He was lying on his side, with his back to the inside of the sleeping bag, and she crawled in next to him, her back facing the side with the zipper. He wasted no time in moving closer to her, supposedly to zip the sleeping bag, but he made no move away from her when that task was done.

"How are you? Okay?" he asked, their noses pressed together as he pushed a strand of hair behind her ears.

"Better now," she whispered, relaxing against him. The day had been yet another long and exhausting one, both physically and emotionally, and it was nice to be able to curl up with him, knowing that for that moment, there was nothing between them that they hadn't been able to talk about, nothing holding them back from each other, as there had been so many other times. They may not have understood _all_ of each other's thoughts, but there were no secrets and no lies. That meant everything to her. After all, it hadn't always been that way. No, their difficult past made this moment even sweeter.

She was more awake this evening, having had a nap in the middle of the day, so she didn't fall asleep immediately. Instead, she took advantage of the chance to enjoy the company of the man she loved more than anything or anyone.

A little later, as they lay awake and listened to the fire crackling. The flames were already lower than they would have liked, especially considering that their supply of sticks had all already been thrown into it. There in the quiet darkness, they lay pressed together in the sleeping bag, just watching each other. Her left leg and left arm were draped partway over him, her head on his shoulder, as his left arm wound around her and his left hand sat on her back, moving gently against her skin.

They could just barely see each other's faces in the firelight, and the look on Jane's face was so intense that Kurt couldn't help but worry. "What's wrong?" he asked softly.

"That's the funny thing… nothing's wrong," she replied. "I'm not used to this feeling."

He chuckled softly, thinking that that was both very sad and yet wonderful at the same time. Sad that it wasn't something she had experienced enough to think that it was normal, and wonderful because she was feeling it _now_. In truth, of course, it was the same way for him, but he realized that only after thinking it about her. "Well, you're going to have to get used to it," he told her. When she looked at him in confusion, he added, "Because I don't intend for this to be the only time that happens. And yes, I understand that my powers are limited. There are a _lot_ of things in our lives that we can't control…"

"That may be a significant understatement," she observed with a grimace.

"I know, I know," he said soothingly. "But as much as humanly possible, that's my goal. To make you as happy as I can."

Her head was shaking back and forth, but Kurt put his right hand up to her cheek to stop her head's movement. "And don't tell me that you don't know how to be happy, or something like that. There's nothing to know. Except that I love you. The rest of it… it doesn't matter."

She'd leaned her face against his hand as soon as it had touched her cheek, and warmth had spread from where their skin connected, out through her entire body. Her smile felt inadequate to express her emotions just then, the happiness inside her just too enormous and overwhelming to express.

"I don't…" she started, blushing when she realized that once again, she was saying something that he was going to disagree with.

"Yes, you do deserve this happiness," he told her evenly, looking into her eyes intently as she looked away, and then back again. "Every bit of it."

Maybe she _did_ deserve all this, deserved him, and maybe she didn't. That part didn't matter. What mattered was that she had him. Hadn't he said something like that at some point? In the end, that was the truth. After all, life wasn't all about what you deserved. Either way, she had no intention of letting the fact that she had him change – ever, if it was in her power to keep him.

Surrendering to his stubbornness on the subject, she just beamed at him. "I love you, too," she whispered, and then watched as his smile widened ever farther.

"Let's get some sleep," he suggested softly. "Okay?"

"One more thing," she said softly but insistently.

"And what's that?"

Without a word, she leaned up and closed the short distance between them, kissing his slowly, then leaning back less than a minute later to look into his eyes. She wasn't sure if he could understand how much she loved him, she only knew that she didn't have words to explain it. Somehow, however, she had a feeling that he knew, and the thought was comforting.

"Good night, Jane," he whispered.

"Good night," she replied, her eyes already closing, and her mind already shutting down for the night.

The next conscious thought he had, to his surprise, was waking up the next morning. Apparently he'd passed out just as quickly as she had, for once. Now, in the early morning, he awoke to find Jane's head tucked under his chin. The smile that lit up his face then was his only movement, not wanting to disturb her. He'd felt this delirious joy before, when he had woken up beside her other times, but somehow he was sure that the feeling was even stronger that day. Today there was the added happiness of knowing that, if nothing else went wrong, they would reach the village – and considering that they had next to no food left, it would be just in time.

Once again, he listened to the songs of birds that he couldn't see, tweeting happily from somewhere nearby. He was content to breathe in and out with his arms around Jane. The cool breeze on his cheeks was warm enough not to sting his skin, but cool enough to make him glad for the heat inside the sleeping bag.

He'd been staring at the sky and daydreaming when he felt Jane stirring against him, and he looked down to find her eyes just blinking open. "Hey, good morning," he said, his voice still raspy from sleep himself. The smile that lit up her face as soon as she saw him was, as far as he was concerned, yet another gift that he hadn't known that he would receive only a few days ago.

"Good morning," she replied sleepily. "How long have you been awake?"

"Don't know," he shrugged, "Not too long. Just laying here thinking."

"Oh yeah? About anything in particular?" Jane asked curiously.

"About you, of course," he told her, as if it should have been obvious.

Jane rolled her eyes and shook her head, but the smile on her face grew. "Not about getting to the village today? Finding some real food? Sleeping on an actual bed? Getting _home_?" she wanted to know.

"Well, those are things I'm looking forward to, of course. Especially the food… but I was still mostly thinking about you."

"Awww…" she murmured, snuggling against him. "I don't want to get out of this sleeping bag," she mused, "but I'm _really_ looking forward to all of those things I just mentioned… Are you ready to get up? As much as I'd love to lie here with you…"

"I know, trust me," he nodded. "I'm ready if you are." As he had the day before, he moved closer to her and then slowly unzipped the sleeping bag behind her, kissing her neck in passing and sending a shiver down her spine.

"Such a tease," she muttered under her breath, not far from his ear, and she both heard _and_ felt him chuckle. And then just like that, the cool air rushed in against her back as the zipper was released, and she stood up and moved as quickly as she could on sore feet to get to where she'd dropped her clothes the day before. Once she had clothes on, she picked up the socks that she'd put on the previous day after Kurt had washed them, which were still almost perfectly clean, amazed that they were clean enough that she could wear them again.

Kurt had already thrown his clothes on and was rolling up the sleeping bag to stow it back in its waterproof bag when she turned around, sitting down on the tarp to spare her feet unnecessary pressure and looking up at him. He knelt down beside her and took the tiny bundle that was all that was left of their food out of his backpack. It wasn't even enough for one person, but when he tried to hand the whole thing to her, she gave him a stern look that said, _Don't even think about it._

"You're sharing that with me, you know that right?" she asked insistently. He looked like he was about to say something, but the look on her face was unrelenting until he gave in and agreed. Only then did she allow him to give her half of what was left of the fruit and nuts.

Both of their shares together were tiny, and split in two they were even smaller, so they finished them off quickly and drank some water from their replenished supply. By now they had the packing up and moving on thing down to a science, and after a few minutes to brush their teeth and fold up the tarp, they were on their way again.

Jane hadn't mentioned her feet so far that day, and though they weren't quite back to normal, they were feeling better than they had even the day before. Still, she'd noticed that Kurt had wrapped his arm around her waist when they'd started walking, even though she was now walking _with_ him more than she was leaning _on_ him.

 _It's probably more habit than anything else by now_ , she decided. Besides, it wasn't as though she minded being closer to him. Quite the opposite.

"So…" she said, approaching the subject carefully. They still hadn't talked about how Kurt had come to have that metal box with Jane's name on it, the one that needed the two of them to open. In truth, she hadn't really even thought about it since the night he'd arrived in her tent, when he'd shown it to her. To say that things had been tense that night would be an understatement, and since then, it had been all about figuring out how the two of them would move forward, both literally and emotionally. "Am I allowed to ask about that box you've been carrying? Like, where did you find it?"

"Of course," Kurt started, surprised by the question. He'd almost forgotten that that box was one of the things he was carrying. His initial thought was, _Why would she think she couldn't ask about it?_

 _Maybe because the box connects the two of you back to her having left,_ the voice in his head suggested. _After all, it may or may not have appeared if you hadn't left. Of course that's going to be a sensitive subject._

"Patterson got a hit from the, uh, tattoo database," he began slowly.

 _Why do I feel guilty for saying that we used the tattoo database after she… left… when_ _ **she**_ _was the one who left?_ he wondered. It almost felt as though using the database without Jane there had been wrong, somehow, even though that didn't make sense.

She watched as his face suddenly flushed, and she could feel him tense all over. The box was a tiny thread that connected the past few months with the present, and the connection between those times was still very sensitive for them, even after several long, emotional days together. It was something that they had to talk about eventually, of course, and this was as good a time as any. She just hoped that this wouldn't undo the progress they'd made so far.

 _You two are stronger than that,_ a voice whispered from the back of her mind. _Hasn't he proven that yet?_

He watched her for a reaction, but she just nodded, waiting for him to go on.

"We had a lead that led us to a street corner in Brooklyn," he continued slowly.

"Always Brooklyn," Jane added quietly, trying to diffuse the tension that she suddenly felt in the air. They'd headed to Brooklyn many times over the years to follow up on leads, but today her thoughts flew back to the day they'd casually strolled through Park Slope as part of an op that had allowed them, among other things, to keep hackers from releasing a wealth of classified documents to the public.

 _It wasn't the same without you._ For a second he wasn't entirely sure he hadn't said the words out loud, and he watched her for a reaction until, a few seconds later when he still didn't see one, he let go of the breath that he'd suddenly been able to let out. He didn't want to make this even more difficult than it already was, after all, thankful that the words had only been inside his head after all. She certainly didn't need to feel any guiltier about leaving than she already did.

Kurt nodded, laughing nervously, then continued. "We were standing there, trying to figure out why we'd been sent to that particular corner, when Zapata noticed that the basement apartment on that particular corner had a brand new lock on the door. The rest of the alcove where the stairs went down looked ancient, like they'd never had any maintenance done whatsoever, but the outside part of the deadbolt system, the part where the keyhole was, that was shiny. The sun just happened to reflect right off of it while we were standing there, just for a second. So we went down and looked in the tiny little widows as best we could. It was a completely empty room, but in the center of it, we could see something sitting on the floor. No furniture whatsoever, just… that box."

Jane glanced at him, nodding, but didn't know what to say. She waited to see if there was more to the story.

"We got in there, obviously, and the apartment was clear. Not a single hair or fingerprint. _Nothing._ And as much dust as there was in that place… there wasn't _any_ on the box. That lack of dust was the only clue we found in the entire place."

After a few seconds of silence, she asked, "What do you think it means?" She was fascinated by the story of how they'd found the box, and yet, it sounded like so many of their cases – 1 step forward, 3 steps back. They found an answer, only to have even more questions.

"The team threw around theories," he assured her. "But it was all conjecture. We had nothing to go on. Nowhere to even start. What happened back on the mountain, in your tent…" He stopped, glancing at her as if he didn't want to say it out loud.

"When my skin was _glowing purple,_ you mean?" she added helpfully. Once again, she attempted to lighten the mood, even though thinking back to that moment when she had been about as frightened as she had been in a very long time made her skin crawl. She took several deep breaths in a row, hoping she seemed more together than she felt just then.

He looked over at her as they walked, remembering the emotions that had overcome him at the first sight of her. "That was the biggest lead we've had on the box, and obviously, we don't know what it meant."

"How could it… what could possibly do that to me?" she asked, shivering slightly. "Just when I thought I knew everything that had been done to me… What I did to _myself_ …" A chill ran through her body, and goosebumps appeared on her arms. His arm squeezed more tightly around her waist, causing her to look up at him.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," he told her sincerely.

"But what if it has already happened?" she asked him, her voice shaking slightly. "What if there's nothing even _you_ can do?"

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," he repeated firmly. "Okay?"

Smiling weakly at Kurt's attempt at reassurance, Jane just nodded. They both knew it wasn't that simple, but even just his stubborn words were somewhat reassuring.

It was her smile, or attempt at a smile, that killed him. Before these past few days, it had been a very long time since Jane had looked afraid of anything. On the contrary, she ran _toward_ danger on a regular basis if even one person needed to be saved. That unwavering courage just made it that much more unnerving to see her face now. She hadn't said as much, but he could see that she was afraid, and if he was honest with himself, he knew that he was, too.

In the end, of course, he might very well have no say whatsoever in what happened to her, and he couldn't bear to admit how much that scared him. He already knew how it felt to lose her, and he already knew that he simply couldn't go through that again.

Try as she might to smile, the more she tried to form her face into that shape, the less it seemed to cooperate. Somehow, over the past few days she'd managed to forget the whole purple glow thing, but now, remembering it all again, she felt like she was back at the beginning, when she hadn't had a name or any idea what was happening to her. Yes, she knew who she was this time, and she did know a lot about her past – but what she knew was an ugly truth that was no consolation, and once again the magnitude of the unanswered questions threatened to overwhelm her.

"Jane," he said, tugging her to a stop and stepping in front of her, where she'd been focusing into the distance. Her eyes now looked in the direction of where he was standing, but without seeing him. Without waiting for a response, he wrapped his arms around her, feeling hers curl around his middle, even more tightly than he'd expected, in return.

"Hey… It's okay." There was surprise in his voice, because he hadn't expected her to give in to his attempt to comfort her quite that easily. "It's okay, Jane. Really."

She nodded quickly then, her face against his shoulder so that he wouldn't get the chance to read the fear in her eyes.

It was, of course, that same quick nod that told him not to believe her when she said she was fine. He kissed the top of her head and hugged her more tightly than he thought he ever had before, hoping that what he was trying to say would sink in somehow.

"None of that matters right now, okay? One thing at a time. Right now, we're just working on getting back to the village, and then we worry about getting back to New York. The rest of it will wait. It _has_ to wait." Of course, there was no guarantee that it would work that way, but it felt like the right thing to say. It was the way that things would happen if there was any justice left in the world.

 _Like there was justice for Taylor?_ his mind whispered deviously.

Now it was _his_ thoughts slamming to a halt instead of hers. No, along with hers. For a minute they just hung onto each other, taking deep breaths, somehow soothed by the other's slightly panicked breathing.

No, there had been no justice for Taylor, and now that his father was dead, there never would be. The only thing he could do was to remember her, and to continue to try to do as much good as possible. It didn't feel like enough, but then, he realized, there was nothing that ever would have. Even if his father had served a life sentence for his best friend's murder, it wouldn't have felt like enough.

 _Forget about justice that you can't have,_ he told himself. Focus on what you _can_ have. What you _do_ have.

"Come on," he whispered, releasing her slowly and stepping back to look into her eyes. She was focused on him now, the corners of her mouth turned up slightly and a spark of the determination in her eyes that made the Jane he knew so very special. Reassured by this, he stepped back and turned so that he could once again walk beside her, his arm around her waist. "We're okay. Let's keep moving." It wasn't clear whether this comment was intended more for her reassurance, for his, or for both, but he had decided that that was going to be what he believed for now. That they were okay. After all, he would accept no other outcome.

"Yeah," she agreed hesitantly. "After all, I'm not purple _now_ …" She grimaced at him, and for a minute they exchanged the same pained look.

"Not much farther," he promised, trying to keep them focused on the present.

 _Not much farther,_ she repeated inside her head. _We can do this…_ _I hope._


	11. Never Again

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

Of course, because they were so focused on reaching the village, the day seemed to drag on and on. Jane found herself glancing up at the sun often, willing it to have moved across the sky and signaling the passage of time. However, the sun seemed determined not to cooperate, and if she didn't know better, she would have sworn that it wasn't moving at all. They didn't talk much as the morning slowly wore on, both of them thinking of only one thing – reaching their destination. It was hard to be sure just how much time they had lost on the way down the mountain, due to numerous setbacks, however, now that they had picked up speed, they wanted nothing more than to just get there already.

The sun was _finally_ almost directly overhead when Kurt, knowing what Jane's reaction would be and bracing himself for it, suggested a break.

"Jane, let's stop for a few minutes," he suggested, tugging her gently to a stop with the arm around her waist as he slowed his steps. "We've been going full speed all morning." He hadn't bothered to look at his watch when they started, all he knew was that it had been early.

"I'm fine," she protested in annoyance. "I don't need to stop. Let's just get this over with." Their arms had dropped when he'd stopped and, unwilling to be completely separated, they were now holding hands. She was tugging at him right back, not wanting to take a break.

"We're not going to walk all day without at least taking a break," he protested, hoping that she would hear how crazy that sounded. Of course, he realized too late who he was talking to, and the fact that she would think nothing of walking all day without a break if it got her to her goal.

"So? It's not like we have anything left to eat – which is just another reason _not_ to stop. So that we can get there sooner."

Seeing that she was not going to be easily convinced, he sighed and shook his head at her. This fierce determination of hers was both a strength and a weakness, depending on the situation. "Five minutes," he told her. "Call it a water break."

Rolling her eyes in annoyance, she finally agreed, and they sat down in the grass beside the path. Kurt took out one of their water bottles, handing it to her. Out of habit, she took only a sip before handing it back to him.

"More than that, Jane. We're not running out, remember?" he urged her gently.

"Oh, right. At least we still have _water_ ," she replied, a note of annoyance in her voice.

Kurt couldn't help but smile. He was hungry too, and while Jane was usually better at hiding her discomfort, she'd had so much to deal with in the past few days, past few _months_ , it was a wonder she was as even-tempered as she was. Besides, he had a feeling that if she was with anyone else, she would have pretended to be perfectly fine. It was only with him, he suspected, that she let her guard down enough to show this flash of annoyance. After everything they'd been through, he was even grateful that she could snap at him, because it meant that she was there with him.

When she handed the water bottle back to him, he took the opportunity to take her hand as well, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it lightly. When she looked at him in surprise, he just smiled and said calmly, "We'll be there soon. I'm not sure exactly how long, but it should be today. Okay?"

The tightness in her features melted away then, as she realized that she had absolutely no right to take any of this out on him. On the contrary, _she'd_ done this. She was the reason that he had had to come out here and bring her back. She thought these words without starting a spiral of guilt, for once – it was simply a fact. They were here because she had run here to get away from him. To protect him. End of story. She breathed in and out deliberately, pondering what Kurt had told her.

 _We're here now, and we're going home._

She repeated the words objectively in her head. When she didn't let herself use them against her, they were just a statement of fact. Remembering that she had yet to reply to him, she smiled apologetically and looked up into his eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "You're the last person in the world I should be taking things out on."

"And yet, I don't mind a bit," he said soothingly. "The situation isn't ideal. I know. You have every right to be grumpy."

 _Dammit, why does he have to be so… nice? I really_ _ **am**_ _grumpy._

"That's not fair to you, though. I'm sorry." She realized only afterwards that she had apologized, not once but twice, but thought maybe he'd let it slide. After all, her bad mood _was_ something for which she really _should_ be sorry. Smiling up at him tiredly, she was surprised to see him beaming at her.

"I know you didn't want to stop," he told her empathetically. "And I know it's hard for you to let anyone take care of you. Thank you for humoring me. Are you ready to go?"

For a few seconds she blinked in surprise, smiling slowly as she processed his reaction. She didn't know how he was so calm and level-headed, but she had no complaints.

"I thought you'd never ask," she replied, and they stood up slowly and brushed themselves off. Jane had insisted on carrying her backpack that morning, and now she reached for it again. Kurt handed it over without a word.

"How are your feet?" he asked.

"Sore," she replied. "Didn't you hear? I've been walking down a mountain for the past few months."

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "But otherwise okay?" he asked.

"I've made it this far," she said with a smile. "And I can now tell you first hand that there's a big difference between _sore_ and _on fire._ But I'm fine."

He looked at her uncertainly for a few long seconds. After all, she was prone to saying she was fine when she wasn't anywhere near fine, so it was hard to know if she was telling the truth. The exasperated smile on her face told him that she knew what he was thinking.

"Yes, _really_ ," she added, tugging _him_ to a stop this time and turning towards him. Now standing on her toes so that they were almost at eye level with each other, she leaned forward to kiss him. It was an innocent kiss, simply to reassure him, and she leaned back just enough to be able to focus on his face. "I promise," she whispered.

His heart fluttered slightly in his chest as he smiled back at her. "I just want to make sure you're alright, Jane," he told her softly, his brow furrowing earnestly as he tucked a strand of hair that had blown into her face behind her ear.

"I know you do." She swallowed all of the other things that her mouth wanted to say – _I'm sorry_ and _I don't deserve you_ and any other similar words – and all the guilt that went along with them. It required her to grit her teeth to do it, but she managed, deciding that, like so many other things, it was a starting point. Getting rid of the thoughts would take longer, but that was to be expected. "I'm not _trying_ to be difficult," she added, her muscles in her face tightening in frustration with herself and, to her dismay, the corners of her eyes stinging suspiciously.

"Sshhhh, hey… I know that," he assured her quickly, concerned by the sudden desperation he saw in her eyes. The hand that wasn't holding onto hers went to her cheek, and she leaned into it as she nodded, a faint smile on her face as she looked back at him. Feeling satisfied that they understood each other, the hand on her cheek dropped reluctantly, his other hand squeezing hers.

Just like that, calm flooded through her. _It's amazing that he can have such an effect on me,_ she thought in wonder.

 _It's because you love him, silly,_ the voice in her head reminded her. Now feeling perfectly calm, her smile broadened slightly and they started walking again.

They were quiet again then, just walking side by side in the sunshine. The day was cooler than the others had been – it didn't feel hot, despite the fact that it was mid-day and the sun was almost directly overhead. It was the perfect weather for what they could pretend was a leisurely walk through a park, and not the end of the first leg of their long journey back. Yes, they were tired and hungry. On the other hand, coming on the heels of the past few months, the fact that they were there together was more than enough.

He was surprised at the pace Jane was able to maintain over the next few hours. They were making better time than they had since probably the first day. Every time they went came around a bend, or they became able to see just a little farther ahead, they looked out for anything ahead that might mean the village was near. Sadly, many hours later as the sun was already getting low in the sky, they had yet to see any signs of civilization. Jane was trying in vain to hide her disappointment, and her pace was now slower, though still determined.

She was pushing herself, but feeling like beginning to feel like they would never reach the village. Once again she wondered if they'd taken a wrong turn, even though there hadn't _been_ any turns, and despite the fact that passing the stream had told them that they were on the right path. The idea of sleeping outside again – while not exactly unpleasant, because sleeping next to Kurt was, of course, the only place she wanted to be – made her push herself even harder. If they had to camp another night, they certainly could… but it was more about the attainment of their goal, of reaching that first milestone on the way home, so that they could move on to the second and the third, and eventually arrive back in New York.

Of course, once they got home they still had to find their friends, but they had to be home first. Trying not to think too hard about anything but that first goal, lest she feel overwhelmed by it all, she pushed herself harder. If there had been days more of walking ahead of them, she would have saved her strength. But because they were so close, she could exert herself a little more, if that was what it took to reach the village by nightfall.

Kurt knew what Jane was doing, and he couldn't say he blamed her. Of course, he wanted to get there, too, and he couldn't fault Jane for her frantic pace. He worried about her, however. That was only natural. He always had, and he always would, even more now than ever before. But he knew that as long as there was a single ray of light in the sky, there was nothing he could do to deter her from pushing herself as hard as she could if it meant they could reach the village that day – well, that night, now. And so he did as he had done for the past several days: he walked beside her and held onto her, by the hand that day, thinking how truly lucky they both were to have ended up there together, despite everything.

The last of the light was fading when they finally saw the faint shadows of small buildings in the distance. Kurt had been about to tell Jane that they needed to stop for the night, and he had really, really not been looking forward to having to say it. At almost exactly the same time, however, they both breathed in sharply as they saw what they had been hoping for all day, squeezing the other's hand.

"We made it," Jane breathed quietly as they quickened their pace. It would be best to get there before it was _completely_ dark, after all, especially since they were strangers. After that they said nothing, simply put all their effort into getting to that village that grew larger much too slowly. They couldn't run, not with all of the gear between them. Kurt was carrying most of it, of course, and despite his strength, after four days of walking under less than ideal conditions and almost no food that day, he could only go so fast.

As they entered the small village, which consisted of a small group of houses and several other buildings whose uses weren't immediately obvious in the dark, they slowed to a walk, looking around. There was very little noise except the sounds of crickets, and only a few of the houses had any light coming from them. Both Jane and Kurt remembered this village from when they'd passed through on their way up the mountain, though obviously Kurt had been there much more recently.

"Any ideas where we start?" Kurt asked. "How were the people when…" He hesitated, since the question meant an allusion to a time that neither of them liked to think about. "…when you were here last?"

Jane was scanning the darkness, not wanting to look at him just then as she thought back to that time. When she hesitated, she felt him squeeze her hand in encouragement, a silent reminder that they were okay. "Shy," she whispered. "Wary, but maybe that just had to do with… how I look." She couldn't remember how many of her tattoos had been visible that day, but she didn't think she'd gone out of her way to cover them up. She did remember was getting strange looks from the villagers, but then that could just have been because she was foreign looking to them, even besides the tattoos. "Could have been the tattoos, or just my being white. But they were very kind to me."

He wished he could look into her eyes at that moment, but there was far from enough light for that. Besides, they were both looking around them carefully as they walked, staring into the dark for signs of life.

Just as Kurt was about to ask if she had any idea where to start, a door to their left creaked open slowly, letting a crack of light out into the darkness. The shape of a person that they couldn't see was silhouetted against the brightness behind it, and they froze, squinting towards the figure. It was unlikely that they would have to defend themselves, but their jobs had taught them that you couldn't be too careful.

An older man's voice rang out through the darkness in a language that Kurt didn't understand, but to which Jane replied almost immediately.

 _Of course she speaks the language,_ he thought with a relieved smile. Jane had bowed her head slightly toward the voice, then tugged Kurt along as she turned toward the man. He was slowly opening his door wider letting more light out little by little. Behind him, there were several other shadows, undoubtedly curious family members. He imagined that their arrival in the village, especially after dark, would be a subject of great interest.

The speech pattern he was hearing was so completely foreign to his ears – not like Spanish, where he might pick out a word or two – but Jane and the man seemed to be having a long conversation. From what he could tell, it seemed to be going well. The man was now beckoning them to come inside his small house. As they stepped inside and their eyes adjusted to the dim light given off by candles set in several strategic locations throughout the room, their eyes slowly adjusted to the light and the people who had been just silhouettes a few moments before suddenly had faces.

Kurt was wary of the strangers, feeling especially protective of Jane. He'd gone through too much to get her back to have anything happen to her. As he listened to the words that meant nothing to him, however, Kurt realized that the man who'd just invited them in was probably feeling just as cautious about these mysterious strangers, if not more so. The more the man and Jane talked, however, the more the man seemed at ease, glancing over at Kurt every minute or so, smiling more at him little by little.

"He's the elder in this village," Jane whispered to Kurt. "And he we were welcome to stay here tonight. We can put our things down here, for now." She pointed to a spot near the door, against the wall, next to which a neat collection of shoes was lined up. Jane had knelt down to untie her boots, and Kurt wondered how her feet would look after the day's hard walking and barely any breaks. Speaking of which, he wondered for her feet _felt_ after that day's more strenuous pace. She hadn't complained once, and they'd been so focused on moving along, he'd neglected to even ask her. By the time he was removing his own boots, she was standing and looking at her feet, sighing quietly.

Jane was dismayed when she saw that her feet had not fared as well as they had the day before. The more extreme pace and the lack of all but the shortest of breaks had obviously taken their toll, because her socks, while not as stained as they had been two days before, were also not as clean as they had been the previous day. She hated for even Kurt to make a fuss over her, so when she looked up from where she sat on the floor and saw the older man looking down at her feet, and then calling for his wife to come back in from the next room, she felt very uncomfortable.

Kurt watched the village elder's reaction to Jane's slightly bloody socks with concern. He couldn't understand the man's words, but from his tone, he seemed to be very concerned with Jane's well-being. Just in case, he crouched down on the floor behind her again, one hand landing on each of her shoulders as he leaned toward her left ear. As he did, she turned slightly over her left shoulder towards him, bringing her face close to his.

"Everything okay?" he whispered, even though he was relatively sure they didn't understand him anyway.

"Well, it seems that you're not the only one to be concerned with the state of my feet," she said, smiling as she glanced back up at the older woman who had just appeared above her and was now kindly giving her instructions. Nodding at the woman, she turned back to Kurt and said, "They want to treat my feet first. Makes sense, they don't want me bleeding on their floor. They want me to sit up on that chair over there," she said, pointing across the room, "and then to soak my feet. Could you…" She paused, as if she hated to ask it of him. "Could you please lift me up to the chair?"

"Of course," he replied, surprised that she looked so flustered to ask something so simple of him. "I've been trying to carry you for days, if you recall. I only got a short chance to do it, and then we had to stop by the stream." He kissed her on the forehead as she shook her head at him, then lifted her up and carried her across the small room to the chair she had indicated. The older couple looked quite surprised, as did the two middle aged girls who walked into the room at that moment. When Kurt set her down gently, the four others in the room clucked at him, smiling and appearing impressed, though of course he didn't understand a word of it.

"You've just become Superman, I think," Jane told him with an appreciative smile. Kurt smiled back at Jane, and then awkwardly at the others, then looked back at her cautiously. Just because these people seemed friendly, that didn't mean he wasn't still suspicious when it came to just what exactly this woman was about to do to Jane's poor feet. One of the girls that was about their age had just brought the older woman a tub of water. Kurt stepped back, out of the way as the water was put down on the floor directly in front of Jane. The water wasn't exactly soapy looking, but it also wasn't clear. There was something in it, but since he didn't know what, he remained wary.

"Any idea what they're about to do to you?" he asked, a worried edge to his voice.

Jane shook her head at him, smiling from across the short distance that now separated them. "It's okay Kurt, they're not going to hurt me. These are good people. As soon as this is finished," she nodded at her feet, which were being submerged in the water, pleased to find that it was warm, "they're going to give us dinner."

At that moment, then older woman turned around from her work, looking up at Kurt towering above her. The expression on her face softened, and she smiled at him. Then, in a language he didn't understand, she began speaking to him, her tone friendly, then gesturing over towards Jane. Looking back up at his wife for assistance, Kurt saw Jane nod and smile at the woman, and then at him.

"She said, you don't have to worry, and that if you want to bring a chair from the next room and sit next to me, you are welcome to," Jane told him. Feeling slightly self-conscious to be the one person in the room who didn't understand what was going on, he just nodded, glancing at the older woman, who had already gone back to her work on Jane's feet, then ventured slowly into the next room to look for a chair. In less than a minute he was back with a chair, setting it down beside Jane carefully so that he did not interrupt the work that was happening in front of them.

"Don't look so worried, I'm fine," she told him with a grin, reaching over to take his hand. "This feels a hell of a lot better than walking on them did." Still, when she flinched a second later as the woman worked on an extra sensitive area of her left foot, Kurt squeezed her hand tighter at almost the same instant.

He nodded slowly, watching with a solemn expression as the woman did _something_ to Jane's feet that he still couldn't quite understand. For some reason, even though he knew that this was probably for the best, it bothered him that it wasn't him taking care of her, but a stranger.

Jane's voice was in his ear again then, a few seconds later. "And you did a great job taking care of me and my stupid feet the past few days, by the way. I wasn't implying that you hadn't been," she added.

"Didn't quite have the water supply handy," he lamented jokingly, glancing up at her. "I'm assuming it's at least warm?"

"Very," Jane confirmed. "My feet are happy."

"Good," he said, squeezing her hand. "That's all I care about." After a second he added, "Well, and that the rest of you is happy, too." When Jane smiled at him once again, he felt the tension in him over what was happening to her begin to lessen.

The woman looked up then, giving Jane instructions of some kind and pointing into the tub of water, where the water was slightly pinkish now thanks to a few patches of raw skin not holding up as well as others. Jane just nodded, then said something Kurt didn't understand, smiling brightly at the woman. After the woman had dried her hands on a towel sitting on the floor nearby and then stood up and left the room, appearing to tell them to stay put, if Kurt had to guess, Jane leaned over to him to translate.

"As you can probably guess, she's done for now. She wanted me to soak my feet a little longer, while she heats up some food for us. I told her how long it's been since we had more than a little bit to eat, so I'm sure she'll go overboard." Watching his face light up at the thought of food, she couldn't help but smile brightly herself. Suddenly feeling the tiredness that she'd been denying all day, she leaned her head down on his shoulder and stifled a yawn. Almost as if it was an automatic reaction to her head touching that spot, he turned without thinking and kissed the top of her head, then watched a smile erupt on Jane's face.

"I'm kind of tired," she admitted quietly, settling against him and suddenly feeling very drowsy.

"Hey, don't go to sleep here, with your feet in a tub of water," he teased her tiredly. He picked up her left hand, which he was already holding in his right, pulling it to sit on his right leg and now clasping it between both of his hands.

"I'll just rest my eyes for a minute," she said, feeling them closing involuntarily anyway. Doing her best to stay awake, she focused on the sensation of her hand between both of his, and his voice murmuring not far from her ear.

"I hate to tell you not to go to sleep, because I know how badly you need it, sweetheart. But I also know how much you won't want to wake up, and that you need to eat. Not only that, and maybe this is selfish of me, but I do _not_ speak the language here, so if you fall asleep, I have a major communication problem."

Her eyes were still closed, but she laughed gently at his words. It was true. Kurt had many hidden talents, but foreign languages were not one of them. But her ease with languages made up for it, just another reason why they made such a perfect team.

Just then the floor creaked in the doorway, and one of the younger women appeared, smiling apologetically. "Please," she said in heavily accented English. "Come. Eat."

"Well I understood that," Kurt murmured. "Come on, Jane. Let's get you some food and then I promise, we'll sleep. Okay?" He felt her nod against his shoulder, and he turned very slowly since her head still leaned heavily on him. Move he did, however, and she picked up her head, turning to smile and say a few words to the young woman who was standing and watching them.

Jane had had every intention of standing up, and she'd pulled her feet out of the tub of water and set them to dry on the towel that sat beside the container in front of her, pausing there for just a few seconds. Before she could do anything else, however, Kurt leaned down and folded the towel over to pat her feet dry, then stood up and, before she knew what he was doing, had picked her up yet again.

"Don't fall asleep on me this time," he instructed her playfully. "We're only walking to the kitchen."

"Very funny," she replied, narrowing her eyes and pretending that she was not at all amused with him, though she couldn't hide her smile.

The young woman who'd been waiting for them in the doorway smiled nervously, looking down shyly, and then motioned them to follow her into what, it turned out, was the kitchen. There was a fireplace on the far wall, and a small table and four chairs in the middle of the room. The fire looked like it had been stocked with new firewood recently, and it was giving off a warmth that Jane hadn't even realized she needed. The older woman began chatting happily when she saw them come in, and pointed to the food that was already sitting in the middle of the table, along with a few small, white candles that provided additional light for the room in addition to what came from the fire. Kurt set Jane down on the chair closest to the fire, then sat down beside her. After their continued closeness the past few days, sitting on a separate sides of the square table made him feel like he was miles away from her.

The two elders, the parents of the middle aged girls, Kurt guessed, sat down at the table with them, and the woman passed Kurt a bowl of what he would have described as looking like "Chinese food," looking at it and, if he guessed correctly, urging him to eat. "Thank you," he said awkwardly, which Jane translated. He attempted to repeat the phrase that Jane had used, but when the other three people at the table, as well as the two daughters standing off to one side, all chuckled at his attempt, he got the feeling that he'd said it wrong.

Jane gave him the most endearing smile, nodding at him. "That was a really good try," she told him, and he huffed slightly, trying not to feel self-conscious.

"Have some of this," he told her, holding the bowl out in her direction.

The look on his face was just as serious as it had been when he'd told her to eat the dumplings their first day on the mountain. For a second she could see it clearly in her mind all over again. She'd been uncomfortable and still so emotional, and hadn't wanted to eat anything, but Kurt had insisted. This time, however, that stern look made her feel warm inside, and reminded her just how serious he was about taking care of her – as if she could ever have forgotten. She spooned a dish that looked like noodles and meat onto the plate in front of her, thinking that it might be the most delicious smelling food in the world. Not wanting to offend her husband, however, who had, in fact, cooked many delicious meals for her over the last few years, she decided not to say that. Besides, it probably had something to do with how long it had been since they'd had a real plate of food – neither of them could remember when that had last been for them, but it was far more than four days.

"Thank you," she whispered when she was finished serving herself. "May I hold it for you?" He nodded slightly and handed her the bowl, which she held while he heaped food onto his own plate. By now the smell had worked her stomach into a frenzy, and there was an audible growl from its direction. It was none too soon when he took the bowl back from her and set it down, as the older couple and their daughters watched the two guests eating hungrily. They seemed genuinely pleased with their guests' reaction.

In between bites, Jane conversed with their hosts. Kurt, of course, was quickly getting used to the conversation going over his head, but he was more than happy to focus on eating, anyway. Jane had been talking to them for so long that he had finished his food, feeling completely satisfied, while she was only three-quarters of the way done with the much smaller portion that she had served herself. After how little they'd eaten the past few days, he was surprised that she didn't seem hungrier. Wondering if she had returned to old, bad habits, not eating consistently being one of them, he watched her for a minute, resolving to himself to once again ensure that she was eating regular meals, not just tiny intermittent snacks.

Having finished, and tuning out of the conversation in the room because he had no hope of understanding, he felt himself getting very sleepy. When he heard Jane finally addressing him, in English, it was almost a surprise, his thoughts snapping back to the present.

"Ready for bed?" she asked. Jane was turned slightly away from him, towards her other side, and one of the two girls was kneeling by her feet, wrapping one and then the other in what looked like some kind of bandages.

"More than ready," he assured her. "Where are we going?"

"Well, both of the daughters were arguing over who would have the honor of giving up their bed for us," Jane said with a smile, glancing at the two younger family members. "But I think that dilemma has been solved. They are going to share, and we are going to get one of their beds. And don't think I can talk them out of it. I tried. They were not receptive to the idea of our sleeping in the sleeping bag on the floor."

"I will not argue," Kurt said with a sleepy nod of his head. "I'm going to be sleeping in this chair if we don't get to bed in the next few minutes."

Jane said something to the others, and everyone stood wearily, Jane on her aching feet with the new bandages. Kurt followed along as the party walked back toward the front door. "We're just collecting our things, and they'll show us where to go," Jane narrated as Kurt walked behind her, his hands on her shoulders. Whether it was to steady him, to steady her, or both of them, or just because he'd already missed having contact with her, it didn't matter. Their backpacks once again strapped on loosely, they followed the small parade down a dark, narrow hallway to the room of the girl who had insisted on won the right to have the visitors sleep in her bed.

The two girls then bowed slightly and said a few words to the group, some of which he heard echoed back to them, so he assumed that they were some form of "Good night." After that, the two sisters made their way to the next doorway on the same side of the hall, disappearing inside.

Now only the parents stood in the hall with them, pushing the door open to reveal the small room that Jane and Kurt were being offered for the night. There wasn't much – a narrow bed, a chair, and a chest on which there sat a thick white pillar candle, burned about halfway down. The candle was giving off the only light in the room.

Jane exchanged a few more words with the couple before they bowed slightly and also retreated down the dark hall, leaving her alone with Kurt. Inside the room, they set down their things in the corner. "The bathroom," Jane informed him, "is across the hall. She was describing the facilities and it sounded… well, it's basically one step above outside."

"Well then, we've moving up. One step up is one step up. That's the right direction," Kurt replied. "You go first."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Of course," he said, yawning loud and long as she raised her eyebrows at him. "Now hurry up so I can have a turn before I pass out." Shaking her head at him, she rummaged through their things until she found both toothbrushes and their toothpaste and headed across the hall, leaving the door open to light her way.

Kurt sat down on the bed, his elbows balanced on his knees as he ran his hands over his face. It hadn't just been a long day or a long week, or even a long month. It had been an eternity since the last time he'd allowed himself to stop and breathe like this, and since he'd felt that everything was right with the world. He'd been so exhausted for so long, he'd forgotten what it felt like _not_ to feel exhausted. Even the last few days, since he'd found Jane, their trek down the mountain had felt like a frantic rush to take her away from the place that she'd run to. Sitting here, in this tiny house at the very edge of the end of the Earth… he could at least mentally prepare himself for what was to come.

Of course, their trek back to New York was far from over, but somehow it felt like getting this far, of coming out of the wilderness literally, and maybe figuratively as well, gave him the first real chance he'd gotten to believe that his nightmare could really be over. It would be a long time before the doubts that had plagued him for so many months without Jane would go away, he knew, but those would be easier to deal with now that he didn't have to get by without her.

"Next," she said softly from the doorway. He looked up from where he sat, and saw her walking toward him slowly, the flickering of the dim candlelight making her look even more beautiful than usual. Standing up wearily, he took a step forward and met her in the middle of the small room.

"You okay?" he mumbled, feeling tiredness taking over his brain.

"Better now," she said sleepily, her arms winding around him without a second thought. "But you go get ready. I'll be here."

"Will you be awake?" he asked, yawning again.

"No promises," she replied. "Depends how long you take."

He chuckled at her, nodding tiredly. "As long as you're here… that's all that matters." His arms had instinctively encircled her, as well, and for a few seconds they simply clung to each other with a combination of exhaustion and love.

"Go, before you fall over," she murmured in his ear. "So you can make it back before you pass out." She let go of him reluctantly, moving only far enough away that she could look into his eyes. After staring into them for a moment, her eyes closed and she leaned her forehead against his nose, suddenly craving more contact that just her arms around him and his around her.

 _Make it back._ Her voice echoed over time and space as he remembered. So long ago, in a country far away. And he had. She had. Both of them had, often miraculously, over and over again.

"I love you," he whispered, thinking just then that he couldn't possibly ever tell her that enough to express just how much.

"I know you do. I love you too, silly," she told him, leaning back farther this time to force him to loosen his grasp on her. "Now go and get ready so that you can come and share this tiny bed with me."

"I like the sound of that," he whispered, attempting to wink, but too tired to accomplish it and just laughing at himself instead. "I'll be right back."

When he disappeared through the door, she turned around slowly to get ready to climb into bed. Every cell in her body was exhausted, but her heart was bursting with happiness. She remembered this feeling. It had started the night that she'd told Kurt that she loved him, in the hall outside his – now _their –_ apartment. Everything had been so dazzlingly perfect… until she'd let her mind convince her that she couldn't have it, that it wasn't hers.

 _This doesn't belong to you._

She heard Remi's icy voice from the long ago dream that had started out so sweet and ended up in some sort of cage match between the two halves of herself. And yet… Kurt's face immediately popped into her head, and Remi's voice simply faded away.

 _Yes, this life does belong to me. It's not up to you, Remi. I'm sorry that you had the life that you did. It wasn't your fault… But that's over. You're not going to take me back there. Never again._

She was surprised at the certainty of her thoughts, and she couldn't help but smile as she thought of how proud of her Kurt would be when she told him what had just happened. Because she _would_ tell him. Unlike last time, she wasn't going to let anything spoil her happiness.

 _A/N: Nope, it's not over yet… but it won't be long._


	12. More Than I Ever Thought I'd Get

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

 _A/N: Three days ago, I really thought I could wrap this story up in one chapter, since I'm facing a lot of deadlines at once and I needed to bring it to a close. I thought I could finish it that day. I really should know better by now. To my surprise, I wrote 47 more pages, and it took three days. So I've now finished writing the draft (though I'm still editing the later parts), and this is the first part of my 47 page ending. There will probably end up being three more chapters. I can't promise, but when I figure it out, I'll let you know. I should be able to post one a day until I get to the end. Once again, thank you for coming along on this journey._

He was back from the bathroom before she even realized it, since she'd gotten lost in thought standing in the middle of the room. She didn't even hear him come back into the bedroom behind her, despite the fact that the door was only a few feet away. By the time she realized he was there, he'd closed the door and taken the few steps necessary to be standing in the center of the room with her.

"Hey," he whispered as she turned around, suddenly looking happier than he could remember seeing her in ages, "you didn't even move. I'm surprised you can still stand up. I thought you were going to climb into bed." Despite her brilliant smile, he looked at her worriedly. "Are you okay?" When she nodded, even though she was smiling at him strangely, he relaxed.

"Why don't we lie down, and you can tell me about whatever it is you're smiling about when we're more comfortable?" he suggested, and her head bobbed agreeably. She wasn't sure she could put it all into words, but she was certainly going to try.

A glance back at the door revealed that it did not have a lock, and they looked at each other for a few seconds, considering their options. "Maybe we should wear _something_ ," she suggested slowly. "But not too much?" Their comfort level with each other had very quickly rebounded, and it was hard to remember that only five days before, in that tent where he'd found her, they'd fallen asleep together in their clothes. Now, that option felt completely unappealing. Of course, they were guests in someone else's home, so a degree of modesty seemed appropriate… but not too much.

In the end, they settled for what they'd worn to crawl into their sleeping bag the first night of their long trek down the mountain – Jane in just her oversized t-shirt and Kurt in a pair of boxers. The bed was pushed against the far wall, across from the door and pushed into the corner at the right side. He got in first, so he could have his back against the wall and feel as though he was keeping watch as he lay on his left side, ready to stand up at a second's notice and protect Jane, if necessary – even though it wasn't. Jane settled in beside him, laying on her back for the moment in the tiny bed as she looked up at Kurt, unable to stop smiling.

"This may be the most comfortable bed in the universe," she sighed, to which he could only chuckle in reply.

"It's actually not that soft for a _bed_ , but compared to the ground… it's pretty damn good," he pointed out. "No complaints here." He leaned down and kissed her, taking his time before sitting back up to look at her again. "Now, before we both pass out, did you want to tell me why you're smiling so hard?"

Taking a deep breath, she nodded, feeling like her smile was going to burst her face wide open. "I had every intention of getting into bed and then… I was just thinking. I was just so happy… And it had been so long, or it _felt_ like it had been so long since I was so happy… after I was so sure…"

Just thinking about what she had to explain in order for him to understand why she was smiling was enough for her smile to dim significantly. Quickly, the old feelings crept back in, the ones from the times that they didn't like to talk about, when waking up from dreams of Kurt had meant heartache, because in reality, if he was able to look at her without a glare, it was a stroke of luck. And even more so, the feelings that had haunted her after she'd left the happiest life she could possibly have imagined, telling herself that she had to give up that happiness forever to keep him safe. _From her_. Even though she knew that she wasn't there anymore, it was hard not to feel it all again.

But there was a lot to explain, and she continued on. "I was so sure that I wouldn't ever get to feel happiness again… that I didn't deserve to…" She bit her lip and reminded herself again that she wasn't in that time anymore, that he was lying right there with her and everything was okay.

"To get this chance with you again, I just… It's so much more than I ever thought I'd get." Her voice broke on the last few words, but she pushed them out, dismayed to feel tears in the corners of her eyes.

He opened his mouth to reply, but she shook her head, because she was not finished talking. "No, there's more. I was thinking," she said with renewed determination, "that everything between us had been so perfect – because it _was_ perfect – until I let my mind convince me that I couldn't have it… that it wasn't mine. I…"

She took a breath, knowing that she was walking a fine line along a very sensitive topic, at least for her. "I never told you about this dream I had…" she continued slowly, now feeling herself blush. "Back when things… weren't very good between us. Well, I had a lot of them, actually. But in this particular one, I dreamed that we were… a couple… having a dinner party. Roman came over. You guys were on good terms. It was just a relaxed evening. Just… _happy_ … and then suddenly the door swung open. I was the only one who noticed, so I went to see what happened. Out in the hall, on the floor in front of the door, was the duffle bag they found me in, complete with the tag that said 'Call the FBI.' I turned around, and you and Roman were gone. Then I turned back to the hall and there was Remi, standing there staring at me."

As soon as she had mentioned Roman's name, she'd felt him tense, his arm that was draped across her stomach tightening immediately. When she said 'Remi,' he stiffened even more. Protectiveness flared up in his eyes, but she shook her head to try to reassure him. "No, listen. I'm just giving you the background first," she promised. As he relaxed slightly, but still looked agitated, she couldn't help but smile, warmth blooming in her chest all over again.

"So Remi was standing there staring at me, the iciest stare you've ever seen, and she told me… 'This doesn't belong to you.' And we fought, throwing each other around the apartment for a while until…" She'd forgotten until that moment how that dream had ended. She was so accustomed to blocking it out.

"Until what?" he asked, before he'd even realized that maybe she didn't want to talk about it, and that's why she'd stopped. But the look that had suddenly appeared on her face was heartbreaking, and he couldn't stand not knowing what was causing it.

"She had me on the dining room table, and she was standing above me. I couldn't move… I don't know why. I watched as she raised the biggest knife we have in the kitchen over me and… She plunged it into my chest. That was when I woke up."

Kurt was staring down at her, open mouthed. "You never told me…" he whispered, horrified.

Shrugging her shoulders and looking away, Jane looked as uncomfortable as she felt. "And a few hours later, at the office, Nas was criticizing me for not getting the data from the chip I stole with Roman because I'd saved him instead, telling me I'd gone against my _mission objective_. And, well, you were sleeping with her at the time, right? You weren't exactly on my side."

Her eyes flashed back up to his, and for a second he didn't know what to say. This conversation had quickly taken a turn he hadn't expected.

"Yes, I was," he mumbled, and now _he_ was the one who couldn't meet _her_ eyes.

 _I remember that day,_ he thought. _I had no idea… What else did she go through that I don't know about?_ It was a hard thought to think now, looking back on so many mistakes.

"I don't say this to make you feel guilty… I'm just making a point. The point is, that's why you've never heard the story," she told him, smiling sadly. "It wasn't exactly something I wanted to bring up. But that wasn't why I told you all that, Kurt," she whispered to him, reaching her hand up to his cheek to turn it back toward her, and letting it rest against the thick scruff on his face as she continued.

"My _original point_ was that Remi told me, 'This doesn't belong to you.' As in, _this life_ that I had in the dream. And I remember all I could think was how badly I wanted it. I can't tell you how many times that dream came back to haunt me…" Again, she smiled at him sadly. "And then, when I was standing there in the middle of the room a few minutes ago, feeling so happy, I heard it again. Her voice, from the back of my head. Like an echo of a memory, even though it never actually happened. And – this is the good party, by the way – you know what happened immediately after that?"

"What?" he asked, releasing the tension he'd been feeling now that Jane no longer looked upset.

"I saw your face in my head, and Remi's voice just… disappeared. And my first thought was that yes, this life _does_ belong to me, and that she doesn't get to decide things for me anymore. I told her that I was sorry that she had the life she had, and that it wasn't her fault, but that it was over. Because she was never taking me back there again. And then all I could think about was that you would be proud of me." She sniffled slightly at the end, her voice overflowing with emotion. "And that's when you came back into the room."

For a few seconds, he looked down at her, stunned, before reaching to cover her hand on his cheek with his own, gently pulling it away so that he could plant a kiss in the center of her palm, and then turning it so that he could lace their fingers together.

"I've _never_ been more proud of you," he told her softly. "You impress me every day. Your strength, your compassion, your _selflessness_... a little _too_ much of that, by the way… Your will to fight for what's right… your heart…"

Her eyes tearing up yet again, her emotions welling up inside her anew. Slowly, he shifted off of his left elbow, which had been holding him up, so that his head was beside hers on the pillow as she turned toward him shyly. She didn't know how to take so many compliments at once. Even one at a time, she wasn't even good at taking them, after all.

His face now nuzzled into her cheek, as she immediately leaned into him, turning slightly to her right, towards him.

She felt nothing but happiness, and yet, she felt tears leaking out of her eyes, to her dismay. She didn't understand what was going on, only that she couldn't get a handle on how she felt or why her reaction wasn't matching it, which was frustrating.

"Hey, it's okay…" he said soothingly. "It's all going to be fine. You know that, right?" When she nodded, half laughing and half choking, he chuckled gently, moving his nose against her cheek, back and forth, as she leaned farther into it.

"I don't even know why I'm crying," she whispered in frustration, trying to get ahold of herself. "I'm happy, _really._ "

"Happy tears are okay," he whispered. "I'd prefer no tears, but happy ones aren't so bad. After everything you've been through, you're certainly entitled. But I have a feeling it's more exhaustion than anything else. What do you say we go to sleep now? I'm pretty surprised that either of us are still conscious."

"I think that's a good idea," she whispered, leaning as close to him as she could get. Just that explanation had taken a lot out of her.

"And if there's anything else you want to tell me about from… _before_ … either of those times… you can. You know that, right? I don't want you to feel like parts of our lives are a black hole that sucks the light out of us. It doesn't have to. It was…" He sighed, looking at her from as close as he could get while still focusing on her. She stared right back at him, her eyes full of so much emotion. "It wasn't an easy time, but we made it here. Just like you said to Remi, _we're_ not going back either. No matter what. Okay?"

Nodding ever so slightly, she could barely force her voice to reply. "Yeah," she whispered, completely exhausted… but in a good way. "I love you," she added softly. "There's not even a strong enough word for how much."

He'd been the one watching tears leak out of her eyes for a while now, but all of a sudden, at her words, he felt his own eyes moisten a little more than usual as well. "Funny, I have that same problem with words," he whispered back. "So I'll just keep telling you until I'm blue in the face and you're sick to death of hearing it. I love you."

She chuckled at him and they leaned closer to each other simultaneously, each needing to hold onto the other as tightly as possible. After shifting positions carefully, so that he was more on his back and she was more on her right side, her head landed on his left shoulder and his left arm curled around behind her. Her left was arm draped across his chest, and he caught hold of her left hand with his right, holding on tight.

"Good night," he whispered. He heard her murmur something that might have been good night, and he laughed softly. Once again, he couldn't have asked for anything more than this moment, and in only a few more seconds, they had both fallen asleep.

The next morning, they did not wake with the sun, despite the fact that it shone brilliantly into the room. They did not wake with the noises of life in the village that came from outside the window, rather loudly at times. They did not even wake with the gentle knocking on the door from the younger daughter of their hosts. If they had been awoken by that last noise, they would have seen a very embarrassed and apologetic young woman open the door just a crack, because her mother had sent her to ensure that the foreigners were actually still there. They'd slept so long, the old woman had become concerned.

Jane and Kurt were still there, of course, and were sleeping quite well. As they tended to, they had moved in their sleep and once again, they were both turned on their sides, Kurt holding on tightly to Jane, her back pressed to his chest. The young woman blushed furiously when she saw them, despite not having been discovered, and not having seen anything scandalous. She wished that her mother would have done this chore on her own, as she felt terrible about peeking at the foreigners as they slept. Having completed her mother's instructions, she closed the door silently and retreated back to the kitchen to make her report.

Eventually, they did wake up, and for the second time since they'd started over, Jane was the first one awake. She knew this even before she turned only ever so slightly to look over her shoulder at him, hearing his slow, even breathing near her ear. Once again, her chest filled with such a warmth that she felt like there was no way that her insides could contain it. More than content to lie quietly in his arms, she closed her eyes and tried to memorize every tiny detail about this moment.

She didn't have to wait too long, however, before she felt him stirring behind her. Without hesitation, she shifted until she could look directly into his sleepy eyes. "Good morning," she whispered. "I was waiting for you to wake up."

His smile seemed to wake up before his vocal cords, because he looked at her with bleary eyes and a tired smile for several seconds before managing a "good morning" in reply. Without even looking away from each other, somehow her left hand found his right, and she pulled their intertwined hands to her cheek, leaning his hand against her skin. His smile grew wider as he gradually woke up, and sleep seemed to finally release him.

"I love waking up with you," he murmured. "Don't—" His eyes widened slightly, as if he'd only just realized what was coming out of his mouth. "Sorry," he mumbled looking down.

A jolt of discomfort tugged at her heart, but she knew that he'd started with an endearing thought, and she couldn't fault him for that. She didn't want him to feel like he had to censor what he felt because he didn't want to hurt her _._ That was the last thing she wanted. After all, he'd gone out of his way to tell her that she could talk about anything from that time that was so uncomfortable, it was only fair that they both had the same rule.

And so she addressed the issue head on. "I don't want to wake up without you ever again, if there's anything I can possibly do to avoid it," she told him evenly, trying to imitate the calm he'd shown last night with her. "But you told me last night that you want me to feel like I can talk to you about… anything, even from… _before._ " The word came out of her mouth carefully, and she paused for a split second before going on.

"So, you have to feel like you can, too. It's only fair. I don't want you holding things back because you're afraid of making me feel bad. If I have to forgive myself, like you said a few days ago, then you have to be honest with me about how you feel. I _know_ I hurt you…" She paused again there, feeling her eyes watering. "And I also know that you understand, but that doesn't make all the things you went through just disappear. I'm not the only one who's important here. You are, too. And I'm not made of glass, despite how you sometimes act."

She hated that there were tears on her cheeks again, but it had needed to be said, and there was nothing she could do about the strength of her emotions.

"You're right, you're not," he told her, now awake. "But it's hard for me not to treat you that way. You've had so many horrible things done to you, by people who were supposed to have protected you…" He tugged their joined hands toward him now, and kissed the back of hers. "All I want to do is protect you, even when you _don't_ need it, to make up for all the bad things. I want you to have so much _good_ in your life, that you don't remember the bad. Not because you've been zipped, but because you just… forget, because you don't need those memories. Because they stop being important. And I'm going to have to stop trying to protect you quite that much, I know. You don't need that from me. Because it's _not_ glass that you're made of. You can stand up to almost anything, so… obviously, you're a diamond."

She'd been smiling through her tears, but now her face crumpled. "Dammit, stop saying things that make me cry, happy tears or not," she whispered unevenly. The tears that had started so tentatively were now coming down her face in full force. Letting go of her hand, he wrapped both his arms around her and pulled her against him tightly, chuckling slightly as he made a _shhhh-ing_ sound. He breathed in and out slowly and deliberately, hoping she would adjust to his rhythm.

He gave her a few minutes before he spoke again, just holding onto her. "Alright let's try this again," he told her, leaning close to her ear. "Are you ready?" He felt her nod, so he loosened his grip on her enough so that she could move back to look at him. Her face was puffy from crying, and he put both of his hands up to her cheeks, swiping at the area under her eyes with his thumbs, trying to catch as many of them as he could.

"There, that's better. Alright." Clearing his throat, he attempted to restart their day from the first thing he'd told her. "I love waking up with you," he murmured, imitating his own sleepy voice. Then, at the part that had caused them both so much heartache the previous time, he kept his eyes focused directly on her and made a different choice. "Please, don't ever leave me again."

"I promise," she replied simply, feeling a tug at her heart that was nowhere near as painful as what she'd experienced when he'd _stopped himself_ from saying those words earlier. It was so much better like this, _talking about things,_ she realized, and suddenly she felt like an idiot. "If I'd only just talked to you about it all in the first place…" She was dismayed to feel herself on the verge of breaking down all over again, when she heard his voice cut through her thoughts, as he was so good at doing.

"Jane," he said soothingly. "You were scared. And like you always do, you were putting someone else before yourself. But that doesn't matter anymore. It's going to be okay. Alright?" She just nodded, and he pushed her hair away from her face and looked at her adoringly. "Come on sweetheart, no more crying. Please? I hate to see you cry."

How could she say no to such a simple request, made by the person who, whether she deserved it or not, loved her more than anything? It was easy – she couldn't. Nodding quickly, she dried her eyes on the loose material of the shoulder area of her t-shirt.

"We should get up, before they send someone to investigate our disappearance," Kurt said jokingly, waiting to see how his humor would be received. "Do we know how we're _leaving_ this village, by the way, oh master translator?"

She smiled at him, shaking her head slowly and rolling her eyes. "Well, I don't know about you, but I got here in the back of a truck that came from a town a few hours away, when one of the men who had taken his produce to the market there was on his way home. So I imagine that we have to find someone like that, who's going that way anyway and is willing to give us a ride, to get ourselves to a bigger town." Pausing for dramatic effect, she added, "Unless of course, you'd rather walk."

"I think I can say for sure that I would rather not walk, if we can avoid it," he smiled at her. "So we'd better get ourselves up and moving, right?"

"Right," she agreed. "And I'm going to need to network a little."

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll just be the pretty face," he replied with a grin, which won him the biggest smile he'd seen on her face in more hours than should have elapsed since he'd seen her happy.

"They can look all they want, but you're all mine," she replied, slightly defensively.

"You've got that right," he assured her, leaning forward to kiss her. This kiss lasted longer than the others they'd shared recently, since the pressure of time had been lessened, and the emotions between them had only been heightened. Still, too soon, they leaned back to catch their breath, nodding at each other, knowing that it was time to get up.

She somehow forced herself to sit up, and he moved quickly to pull himself up beside her on her left as she perched on the edge of the bed. His right hand covered her left for a few seconds, squeezing it gently, and then he stood up, tugging her up with him. They put on their clothes, which were now even filthier than they were, but it didn't matter. Their clothes would get cleaned, and they would shower at some point along the way. One step at a time.

After brushing their teeth and gathering their things together, they appeared in their hosts' kitchen, Jane apologizing for their having slept so long, telling their hosts once more how very much their appreciated having a bed to sleep in, and their generous hospitality. At least, that was what Jane had told him she was going to say. And of course, that she would then ask about getting a ride to the nearest town.

Kurt did his best to smile, but the tones that sounded like such nonsense to his untuned ears began lulling him back to sleep. He did his best to at least keep his eyes open, but it was difficult. While the conversation flew on above his head, the two sisters made several trips to set food down in front of both of the guests. He could only assume that the others had eaten long ago. On each of their plates there was a hard-boiled egg, potatoes in curry sauce, flatbread, and a mug of tea for each of them.

"Thank you," he said to the women sincerely, though he didn't know if they understood even that much. The two smiled and bowed their heads, but said nothing.

He watched Jane's face when she noticed the food that had been put in front of her, which took a little extra time because she'd been involved in the conversation. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in surprise, and she immediately began speaking rapidly in the family's language which, once again, Kurt understood none of.

Jane went straight for the tea, as did Kurt. While they both would have preferred coffee, tea was a very acceptable substitute. After that, they focused on the food, Jane continuing the conversation with the older couple.

Once again, Kurt finished before her, and then just sat and watched her interact with their hosts. He got so accustomed to watching her and just hearing the hum of conversation that he was almost surprised when she turned and spoke to him.

"There's a truck leaving the village in an hour. It's going to make stops in a few towns in a row. He said that the truck's last stop is about halfway to Lhasa. The truck driver's cousin is meeting him at the last stop, and the driver is sure that his cousin would be willing to drive us the rest of the way to Lhasa. From there…" she paused dramatically, her smile widening across her face. "We can fly, with only two stops, back to New York."

He knew this, of course, because he'd made the trip to get there in the first place, but just hearing her say it all out loud, the logistics of it, made him a little dizzy with anticipation. "So, we could be home in… three or four more days, right?" he asked.

"That's right," she replied. "And the best part is… we don't have to walk the rest of the way."

"I would walk that far for you," he told her without hesitation. "But I have to admit… I'll be really glad that I don't have to."

Once again, Jane's smile lit up her face, and he couldn't help but wish that she wasn't so _far away._

"We should get ready to go, though," Jane told him. With that, she turned back to their hosts and said a few words, bowing her head slightly, and then stood up from her chair. Kurt followed her lead, and together they went back down the hall to the bedroom to get their things. Once back inside the small room, however, they moved as if pulled towards each other by gravitational force, Jane's head landing on his chest, both of them with their arms around each other.

"We're really going home," Jane whispered breathlessly. "I mean, I knew it, but… it didn't seem real. I'd spent so long telling myself I'd never go back…"

"And now you know better," he replied. "Because you not coming home is just not an acceptable outcome to me. I was never going to stop looking for you."

"Stubborn…" she murmured. "I love that about you."

"Come on," he replied with a chuckle, "Let's get out of here."

On both of their behalf, Jane thanked their hostess and the two daughters, and then the two travelers, along with the village elder, set out to find the man with the truck who was leaving the village within the hour.

It wasn't a long walk, since it was a tiny village, and the man with the truck was just as friendly as the family who'd been so kind to them the previous night and morning. The pick-up truck was ancient, covered in mud and appearing never to have had maintenance of any sort. The back section was already loaded down with crates full of chickens, and because the man was also taking his adult son with him on the trip, Jane and Kurt would be riding in the back with the chickens. The man had already rearranged the crates to create space for the two human passengers, and he'd even covered a corner of the back section of the truck which backed to the cabin with thick blankets, presumably to cushion against the bumps of the ride down a long dirt road that connected the villages.

Their host conversed briefly with the owner of the truck, who would be taking them further, and then said goodbye. Once again, Jane thanked him effusively in a language Kurt couldn't understand, leaving him to simply smile when the man glanced at him, and to bow his head when Jane bowed hers. The man seemed genuinely happy to have helped them, which Kurt knew was due to Jane. She was so easy to love, after all.

 _Of course, I might be biased,_ he thought as he glanced at her as their host walked away. The truck driver smiled at them equally brightly, as did his son, who appeared to be about twenty-five. In an occurrence that Kurt was now become accustomed to, the man spoke to Jane, and she replied to whatever he'd said in the affirmative, nodding enthusiastically.

"I'm going to be so glad to get back home, where I can understand what's going on around me," Kurt told her under his breath.

Jane smiled at him sympathetically, leaning close to him as she translated. "They're ready to go. It's a little ahead of schedule, and he just wanted to know if that was alright," she told him.

"I think we can handle that," Kurt replied with a weary smile. The two of them climbed up onto the truck bed, having to climb over the side wall because the cages of chickens were packed in so tightly. Though it wasn't easy, he lifted the large backpack that carried most of the belongings, which had now travelled halfway around the world with him, all the way up over his head and then down into the truck, then pulled himself the rest of the way in. Jane came over the side next, and as soon as he'd put down his bag securely, he reached for her hand to help her – not because he thought that she couldn't, but because he didn't want her to _have_ to do it all by herself, as he had told her before.

They settled themselves in the corner where, besides the blankets on the bottom of the truck, an old, thin mattress had been tied up against the wall of the cabin for exactly the purpose for which they now used it – to lean against it and not kill their backs as they hit the bumps in the road. After securing their bags where they wouldn't fly out if they hit a bump going fast, they tried to do the same for themselves. In the end, they just leaned against the mattress and since there was no one back there with them, sat just as close as they wanted to.

At first they sat side by side, but as soon as the truck started and they realized that thanks to the combination of the noise level created by the chickens, the roar of the ancient engine and the noise from the tires on the dirt road, they had little hope of hearing each other from even that small distance, they shifted position so that Kurt was behind her, his back against the wall and Jane sitting between his knees so that he could hold on around her waist, like a seatbelt. That way, if he wanted to say something, he could at least lean down and _try_ to say it into her ear.

They both slept part of the way – there wasn't a lot to do to entertain themselves, and they were still so weary from the past days, weeks and months that with the motion of the truck, as bumpy as it was, they found themselves easily dozing off, sometimes jolted awake again shortly after that, and sometimes not. The next few hours passed this way, and before they knew it, they'd reached their first stop.

Standing up to stretch while the driver got out to handle whatever it was that needed to be done, which included offloading a small portion of the feathered passengers, they looked around at the scenery. This town was bigger than the village they'd spent the night in, but it was still smaller than the tiniest town in New York. It was all sort of surreal to look around at the surrounding landscape, stretching as far as they could see in every direction. Jane tried to memorize the lines and shapes around her, hoping that she would remember it well enough to draw it, whenever she got a chance. For the first time since she'd been in this part of the world, she wished she had a camera with which she could capture the beauty of the place.

"You okay?" Kurt asked, standing behind her. When she turned slightly toward him, he reached out and took her hand, which immediately made her smile. It was the first time she'd heard his voice in the past few hours, and she found that she'd already missed it.

"It's so… beautiful here. So peaceful. Simple. I was just thinking that I wish I could take a picture of it… but I'm trying to take it all in so that I can draw it, probably when we get home."

"You just said one of my favorite phrases," he informed her, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" she asked curiously.

" _When we get home_ ," he informed her. "As in, _our_ home." He watched as the smile spread across her face as well. From alongside the truck, they heard their new friend the truck driver, telling them he was ready to move on to their next destination, the next town along the long dirt road. Well, they both heard him talking, but only Jane understood what he had said.

"They want to go, so… we should probably sit down," Jane ventured.

"No arguments here," he replied. "Let's not slow them down."

They looked at each other once more before sitting back down the same way they'd sat for the past few hours, with the same goofy smile that they'd been wearing for the past few days on their faces. A minute later, once again cuddled up together, Jane turned over her shoulder to look at him, leaning her cheek against his and sighing contentedly.

"Aren't you glad we don't have to walk?" he asked as the engine started. She nodded affirmatively.

"So glad," she confirmed, stretching to speak close to his ear. "But I would have, if we'd had to, if it meant that we'd get back home together." He squeezed his arms around her more tightly, leaning down to kiss her shoulder, then letting his chin rest there. Feeling an unusually strong surge of emotions, he closed his eyes and tightened his arms around her yet again

"It's okay," she said in his ear as the truck started moving, bumping along the dirt road out of town.

It was only two simple words, but they meant a lot. They were the words that Kurt had said to her what felt like a thousand times in the past few days, and that he would undoubtedly continue to say for the foreseeable future when she had moments of doubt. After everything they'd been through, they would _both_ need plenty of reassurance.

And now, instead of being the one hearing those two little words that were so important, she was the one saying them. For the first time, she could actually _believe_ them, and at that moment she'd just known that it was her turn to comfort him. The fact that he still allowed her to do that, that he had forgiven so many of her mistakes because he deemed her worthy of forgiveness, despite all of her flaws, was still awe-inspiring to her. When she thought about it, he had been so right. If she could forgive his mistakes – which she had long since done – then she should be able to forgive her own – which she had now begun to do, with his help.

The truck bumped along the dirt road toward the next village where they would stop, and once again, Jane and Kurt held onto each other, slipping in and out of consciousness as the daylight disappeared from the sky, and a beautiful sunset of orange, pink and purple swirled above them.


	13. Always the Exception

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

Just before nightfall, they reached the second stop. They parked beside a large building, and the man and his son appeared, beginning to offload the crates of chickens from the truck and taking them inside the door.

"I should help them," Kurt murmured to Jane. "It'll go faster."

" _We_ should help them," she corrected him.

"You should rest." He looked at her sternly, but he had a feeling he wasn't going to win this battle.

"I've rested all day, just like you," she reminded him. "Come on." She stood up, and he could see there was no use arguing with her. Instead, he just followed her as they climbed out of the truck, and Jane once again spoke to the man on their behalf. Kurt watched as the man nodded and gestured affirmatively. After climbing over the side of the truck, they walked around to the back and helped the man and his son transfer the rest of the chickens to the storage building. When they were finished, the man offered what Kurt _thought_ were his thanks for their work, Jane appearing to deflect the thanks, since, of course, they were in the man's debt already for the ride.

A few minutes of unintelligible conversation later, the two men seemed to be saying goodbye to Jane, then they turned and walked away in the direction of another nearby building. Kurt looked at her in surprise, waiting for an explanation of what was happening.

"So, the bad news is, there's no spare rooms in town, because there's some sort of festival and people have apparently come from all over to be part of it. Everyone he knows is already filled to capacity with relatives," she told him, hoping he didn't mind too much.

But Kurt just shrugged, stepping closer to her now that the other two men were gone and taking advantage of yet another chance to put his arms around her. "Okay, but you want the good news?" he asked her.

A smile crept across her face once again, as she looked up at him in surprise, knowing that he hadn't understood a word of what was said. _What in the world was the good news that he allegedly knew?_

"Sure," she replied, humoring him. "Tell me the good news."

Turning to look directly into her eyes and draping his arms over her shoulders, his voice dropped to a whisper. "We're close enough together that I can do this." With that, he leaned down to kiss her. It was an innocent kiss since, though no one was around, they _were_ two foreigners with nowhere to go in a town whose name they didn't even know, and they didn't want to offend anyone. But it was enough to make his point. As he pulled back to look at her, he began speaking again immediately. "And I don't care if we sleep on the ground right where we're standing – though honestly that's probably not our best option – because I'm here with you."

She stood still, surprised at the unexpected sweetness of his words. He'd been surprising her that way a lot lately, but she had yet to get used to it – the warmth she felt in her chest was equally strong as it had been the first time, when he'd appeared in her tent on the mountain. There was some other force holding her gaze on him as well just then, and she couldn't look away. After staring into his eyes without speaking for long enough that he began to look concerned, despite the smile on her face, she just shook her head, but continued to gaze at him.

"He said that we could sleep in the back of the truck," she told him quietly. "And that there was a very… _basic_ bathroom around the back of the same building where we put the chickens." Despite the utilitarian nature of her words, she was still staring into his eyes with a force that refused to let go.

"Perfect," he replied. "We get to sleep under the stars again." Not, of course, that they'd paid much attention to the stars on any of the other nights that they'd slept outside. How could they, when they had each other there so much closer?

Jane didn't mind the lack of accommodations either. It wouldn't be nearly as comfortable as the bed they'd shared the night before, but the day had, after all, been far easier. Besides, they were a day closer to getting home.

"But first," she told him, "we go inside and join them for dinner."

"Seriously?" he asked her in disbelief. "And you didn't lead with that?"

"Sorry," she chuckled. "I guess I'm out of practice with…" Shrugging, she was at a loss to come up with a word. "All of it," she finally added.

"You're perfect," he told her without missing a beat. "The only thing you're out of practice with is realizing how wonderful you are. But I can fix that."

Again, he caught her off guard with his words, and the warmth in her chest once again surged, moving quickly outward through her body all over again as she smiled at him.

"Come on," he said, stepping back and climbing up onto the truck bed to get their bags. "Let's go see about that dinner. Just tell me you know which of these houses we're supposed to go into."

"I do," she replied. "Stick with me."

"I have every intention of doing that," he assured her as he climbed back down with their things and they started walking across a narrow, unpaved street.

An hour and a half later, having eaten with the driver of the pick-up truck and his extended family, Jane and Kurt were settled in the sleeping bag in the back of the truck. They'd taken the mattress that Kurt had leaned back against down from where it had been tied, and were lying on it, so their "bed" was more comfortable that they'd expected – though still not a real bed. What made this particular night even better was that, while in the house of the truck driver's family, the matriarch of the family had insisted that they should each have a shower. While it felt like a godsend to them, both Jane and Kurt had a suspicion that it had also been partially selfish on their hosts' parts, because by this point, they were both shockingly dirty.

Either way, they now lay together in the sleeping bag, clothed in borrowed, ill-fitting versions of the local people's attire because the woman had also insisted that she would wash every garment they had with them. As much as they might have liked to go without clothing, they weren't alone in the middle of nowhere any longer, but smack in the middle of a town, without even the privacy of walls and a door. There would be no sleeping unclothed that night.

While the attire was markedly too small on both of them, but on Kurt especially, they could not complain. Considering that they were guests, and that they were being shown such hospitality, they didn't feel that they were in a position to say no to anyone who insisted on doing their _filthy_ laundry. And besides, the idea of clean clothes was so enticing, they had no _desire_ to say no.

Jane nuzzled her face into Kurt's neck happily, overcome for the thousandth time by the buzz of happiness. She swore that she would never, ever get used to this. Indeed, she hoped that she wouldn't. No, she wanted to continue to feel this much joy every second that they were together – though she knew that it was probably impossible.

Once again, he was on his back and she was draped halfway over him, his arms around her protectively. "I love you," she murmured happily, and then felt him kiss the top of her head.

"Love you, too," he whispered. "Now go to sleep. There's no way we're sleeping through half the morning out here." She nodded, chuckling. They would undoubtedly be getting an early start the next day and after an extended good night kiss, they settled down to sleep.

The next day the sky was gray, with ominous looking clouds already present when they were awakened by the sounds of the town at dawn. Whatever the sky held, however, it kept it to itself as they had a quick breakfast with the truck driver and his family, and then climbed back into the truck. He would drive them to the next town, a few hours down the road, and there they would meet up with that man's cousin, who would, they _hoped,_ take them the rest of the way to Lhasa. Assuming that they made good time, they could be there that night.

Traveling once again in the back of the truck, wearing their own, now clean – though still slightly damp – clothes, they were now without their noisy feathered passengers, and the space felt strangely open and quiet compared to the day before. During the hours that it took to get to the next town, they were even able to talk to each other a little, though once again they took advantage of the chance to nap on and off, Kurt still holding onto Jane securely as she snuggled close to him. It was still bumpy and still noisy, though less so, but at the same time it was all still perfect.

It was late morning when they met up with the truck driver's cousin, a man who was somewhere in age between the truck driver and his son – possibly in his early thirties. The cousin was also very kind, though slightly shyer, even when he learned that Jane could indeed speak their language fluently. He'd brought a supply of large boxes – their contents unclear – for his cousin, their original driver, to take back home with him, and was on his way back to his own home in Lhasa. As they'd hoped, he was happy to take the two foreigners who had come so far, and who had been spoken so highly of by his own cousin and by the elder of the village in which he had been born, to the airport.

The trip to Lhasa took the rest of the day. The cousin's truck very much resembled the first one in which they had traveled; it was old and dusty and in disrepair, but it ran, and that was all that was important. Even better, this time, Jane and Kurt were able to squeeze into the cabin with the young man, who was only slightly younger than they were. Kurt sat on the passenger side, Jane in the middle but leaning against him, his left arm around her securely. The cousin wasn't one for conversation, but every now and then he and Jane exchanged a few words.

They stopped in yet another, bigger, town in the early afternoon and they found bowls of noodles from a street vendor, stretching their legs, and then climbed back into the cousin's truck. On and on they drove, on a road that wound up and down hills, the scenery so beautiful that Jane swore it was like driving through a painting. Kurt slept on and off beside her, his left arm around her, his right propped up on the edge of the window and holding his head upright. The ominous clouds above them continued to hold onto whatever they wanted to release, for which Jane was eternally grateful. All she wanted, after all, was to get home.

The light was once again fading from the sky when they saw the outline of Lhasa ahead of them. The cousin said something to Jane, who nodded and smiled widely, her exhaustion from the day of travel appearing to be forgotten.

"He'll take us directly to the airport," she told Kurt, leaning closer to him to speak simply because she could. "We can figure out when there's a flight, and how long we have to wait. As far as I'm concerned, if we have to sleep in the airport… I'm good with that."

"All things considered," he breathed into her ear, "I think that would still be a step up from most of our recent nights."

She felt him chuckling beside her, and she leaned into him, turning to put her head on his shoulder.

They watched the lights of the city getting closer, the buildings growing bigger as they approached. In another thirty minutes, they were pulling up to the curb beside the airport, uniformed security guards standing watch and signaling that they were really and truly back in the civilized world. The airport was much larger than they had expected, and while older looking than some of the airports in the US, it had also clearly been modernized.

At that moment, however, after the varying amounts of time they'd each spent in the wilderness since leaving the US, it looked both huge and modern to them. They slowly sat up, and Kurt climbed out of the truck then turned and held out a hand for Jane. She gave him a strange look as she scooted forward towards the door.

"I know you can get down," he mumbled. "That doesn't mean I don't want to help you anyway."

Her face creased into a smile then, and she took his hand. She knew that she was sometimes frustrating to him, but old habits died hard.

At the back of the truck, they took out their bags and set them on the ground. The cousin, their driver, had walked around to talk to them and to wish them well, and once again Jane launched into conversation with the man. Again, Kurt smiled at him and bowed when he saw Jane do so, confident that she had taken care of thanking him profusely on their behalf.

When the cousin's truck finally pulled away, Jane and Kurt stood for a moment outside the doors of the terminal, their bags at their feet, breathing in yet another milestone on their journey. The milestones seemed to be coming faster now, even though another few days had elapsed since they'd arrived in the village at the base of the mountain. Hopefully, the most difficult part was over.

Kurt had wound his arm around Jane's shoulders, and now he tugged her toward him so that he could kiss her forehead. "What do you say we talk to someone about some plane tickets?" he asked, his face tilting down in her direction and his head resting against hers. "Well, _you_ do some talking to them, anyway."

"I think, that that's music to my ears," she replied. For another few seconds they just stood there, unwilling to break contact with each other even to pick up their bags so that they could move inside.

All too soon, however, Kurt mumbled, "Well, we won't get home just standing here." And he was right, of course, so they reluctantly let go of each other and reached down for their backpacks. Carrying them didn't seem so bad now that they didn't have to walk with them on their backs for hours at a time.

Inside the terminal, which wasn't empty, but which also couldn't be described as busy, there was the hum of people. Of civilization. It was both jarring and soothing to Jane's ears at the same time, since it had been so long since she'd been living up on the mountain. Even though she didn't feel herself stiffen at all, she felt Kurt squeeze her hand, and she wondered how he'd known that she noticed a difference.

 _This is Kurt. Of course he notices a difference,_ the voice in her head reminded her.

She squeezed his hand back as they walked up to the ticket counter for China Southern Airlines, and the woman behind the counter smiled and greeted them in heavily accented English. They both replied with "Hello," but then Jane launched back into a language that Kurt did not understand. He noticed that the young woman looked notably relieved to find that she wouldn't have to conduct the whole transaction in English.

A few minutes into the conversation, Jane looked at him with uncertainty in her eyes. "The next flight leaves tomorrow morning," she told him, "but we didn't talk about how we… um… it's pretty expensive…"

Kurt smiled broadly, reaching for his wallet, something he hadn't needed for quite a while. "Finally, something that _I_ can take care of," he replied, handing the young woman his credit card.

Jane bit her lip, standing there looking at him uncertainly as the ticket agent swiped his card, nodded, and handed it back to him.

"Thank you, sir," the woman replied timidly.

Kurt could feel Jane's eyes on him, but he smiled at the woman who was now printing out their receipt. They would come back and print out their boarding passes in the morning.

"Is there a hotel nearby?" Kurt asked slowly, glad that this woman seemed to speak at least a little bit of English.

"Hotel? Yes, sir. Very nice hotel," she replied, nodding enthusiastically. Then, apparently frustrated with not being able to find the right words, she launched back into the words that only Jane could understand, turning to look directly at her.

Jane had been staring at Kurt, as she had since he'd handed his credit card to the other woman and bough two plane tickets home from Tibet as if it was absolutely nothing. She wasn't sure what she'd expected to happen when it was time to pay, but somehow, that wasn't it. However, when the woman started talking to her, telling her about the nearby hotel, Jane snapped back to attention. For a few minutes, Jane simply nodded, taking in the information, as the woman directed her to the phone from which they could call a driver to pick them up. Nodding over and over, and then finally bowing to the younger woman, who did the same in return, Jane turned away from the counter, Kurt close behind.

"Everything okay?" he asked, and Jane just nodded. He knew that there was something she wanted to talk about, and he wondered just how urgent it was. Meanwhile, relatively sure that she would tell him when she was ready, he took care of thinking about their immediate needs. "We should grab something to eat. There's some kind of food around the corner over there… at least, I think that's what that picture means…" he squinted at the strange drawing on the sign halfway down the hall. "Otherwise, I really don't want to know what that stick person is doing." Grinning at his own joke, he looked into Jane's eyes and saw that something was definitely on her mind.

They were now standing by the window at the edge of the hallway that ran the length of the terminal. "Jane, what's wrong?" he asked, concern now written all over his face. He took her hand, and clasped it between both of his, moving his thumbs back and forth over the back of it.

But she shook her head. He had misunderstood her silence, because there was absolutely nothing wrong. "You just…" she started faintly.

 _Focus_ , she told herself, and she started again.

"You just bought two plane tickets home from Tibet, just handed the woman your credit card as if it was nothing…" She knew that what she'd said didn't necessarily sound like anything to be in awe over, but she couldn't properly explain why this had moved her so much just then.

"Of course I did," he replied as his smile returned. "Did you think I'd leave you here? Because they insist that you pay if you want to buy a ticket…"

"No, that's…" She shook her head. He didn't understand. "It's my fault you had to do that."

Sighing heavily, he lifted her hand up and laid it over his heart, pressing it against his shirt so that she could feel his heartbeat underneath. "Let me try to explain something to you, Jane Weller," he told her slowly. "There are only a few other people that I'd pay to bring back from Tibet, but I would give them grief about it and I'd make them pay me back, no matter how long it took."

She couldn't help but chuckle, despite her discomfort just then, because she knew that he was referring to his sister, and the other members of the team, and she could easily imagine him giving them never ending grief about it, indeed.

"But you… you are the exception. You are _always_ the exception.You've always _been_ the exception, even from the beginning, even when I couldn't see that you were the exception and our friends tried time and time again to tell me. Listen to me carefully, okay?" He paused and waited until she nodded her head, indicating that she was listening before he went on.

"I would pay _anything_ to bring you back home from _anywhere._ And I do it happily and without complaint because I need you with me. And no, I'm not completely over _how_ all of this happened, and I probably won't be for a lot time. But as I've tried to explain to you, what happened doesn't matter. It's over. I know that no matter what else happens, I am better and happier _with_ you than without you. I know that I don't want to be without you again… not ever. So yes, of course I put the plane tickets on my credit card like it was nothing. It _was_ nothing. And I would do it again. Though…"

He closed his eyes for a moment and a look of pain came over his face, and Jane realized that her husband was in pain at the mere _thought_ of her leaving him again.

"You won't have to," she whispered. "I promise."

He smiled then, and opened his eyes. "Those plane tickets, the money, that's _nothing_. You… you are _everything_." His voice had cracked slightly on the last word, but he was satisfied that he'd managed to get it all out. He wasn't an emotional guy, never had been, but Jane brought that otherwise completely invisible side out of him and put it on display. Anyone else who'd managed to do that would have pissed him off, but for Jane… if it was for Jane, he didn't mind at all. There was nothing that wasn't worth it if he could have her.

"Now can we _please_ get some food?" he asked as she stood in stunned silence, fighting back _another_ round of happy tears.

"Anything you want," she whispered, squeezing the fingers of both of his hands that were curled around hers and holding it tightly against his chest.

She remembered that first day that he'd held her hand there, to calm her, and remembered Reade coming out into the hallway and how she'd literally wrenched her hand out of his grasp to get away from him and the dizzying swirl of emotions that he caused her. She hadn't understood it then, and it had frightened her. Now… well, now she wished that she never had to let go of him, never had to take her hand off of his heart.

Of course, getting dinner would be rather awkward if she didn't, and little by little they managed to break the contact, though neither of them wanted to. A minute later, he was holding that hand in only one of his and they were walking down the length of the terminal to check out the food situation.

It turned out that there were indeed multiple food options on the second floor, far more than they'd expected. They could have stayed and eaten there, but the light and the noise of the airport began to wear on both of them quickly, so they opted for something simple that Jane ordered – rice and meat with sauce, of which Kurt neither knew nor required any more details – that came in small boxes and that they could take with them as they went in search of the hotel.

The woman behind the ticket counter had been right, it was, all things considered, a very nice hotel. It wasn't five stars, but Kurt was pretty sure that it would be at least a three, which put it far above any accommodations that either of them had had for quite some time. In the center of the room there was a giant bed, but they sat down on the floor beside it and ate their take out dinner with wooden chopsticks, once again leaning their shoulders and knees against each other.

As far as the two of them were concerned, this was perfect.

When they'd finished eating and had the chance to take advantage of real, modern bathroom facilities for the first time in longer than they could quickly pinpoint – Jane especially – they found themselves finally in the large bed in the center of the room. The sheets were white, and, while not expensive or overly soft, to the weary travelers, it all felt heavenly. They didn't need to shed their clothes because of the need for body heat, but they did so purely because they wanted to.

They didn't go to sleep right away, since once again they had the luxury of privacy in what felt like the softest bed they could remember. Despite their tiredness, sleep wasn't the first thing on their minds. However, a little later, when they had worn themselves out completely, they lay pressed together just as they had in the sleeping bag. At first, they had lay close together out of necessity. As things had improved between them, they'd also _wanted_ to be that close. Now… there was not a shred of necessity left, and they could easily have slept three feet away from each other. But that was now absolutely unthinkable.

They were both lying on their sides, facing each other, snuggled close together with the sheet only half covering them. Jane could feel herself drifting off, and yet she didn't want to fall asleep. Not yet. This all felt like a dream, and she'd had too many dreams of him over time when she'd woken up to a much harsher reality. Even though she _knew_ that this wasn't one of those dreams, still, it just felt too good to be true.

"What's wrong, Jane?" he asked, seeing her pull herself back from the brink of sleep again and again.

"I don't want to fall asleep," she whispered, fighting to keep her eyes open.

"But you're exhausted. Why don't you want to sleep?" he asked her softly.

"This feels like a dream," she murmured, unsure if she'd even said it loud enough for him to hear her.

He chuckled softly, brushing her hair back from her face. "Is that a _bad_ thing?"

"Of course not, except…" She took a deep breath and looked down at the space between them. "You know how I told you about that dream, the strange one that started out sweet and ended up with Remi killing me? Well around that time, I… I was having a lot of those. Not the same kind. Just… They were just sweet and we were deliriously happy, and then…"

" _We_ , as if you and I?" he asked gently, to which she nodded, still not looking up. "Okay, and then… what?"

"And then after I woke up, I went to work, where you acted like you hated me – or, okay you did say that you didn't hate me, but it felt like it for a long time. And things were awful between us. Even when they got better… it was like torture." Her eyes went up to his slowly then. "An even worse kind than the CIA's torture, and I hadn't thought anything could be worse than _that_. Because even though we'd never been… a couple or anything, every day was just a reminder that we never would be. It wasn't even something that was possible. I just _knew_ it wasn't."

Kurt lay there, stunned. _Apparently the ways that I hurt her have no end_ , he thought in despair. "Jane…" he started, feeling helpless, like some kind of unfeeling monster.

But she just shook her head, smiling sadly at him. "My point is, slowly, I got used to waking up and realizing that it had all been in my head. After a while, it didn't hurt as much… I guess because I stopped _letting_ it." The emotion of this memory was suddenly threatening to overwhelm her once again, but she struggled to keep her face her from crumbling.

"And I guess… these last days, since you showed up… it's all been so…" her head was shaking, because she was at a loss for words. "I just… I can't. It feels like a dream, and I remember how badly they hurt to wake up from and… I just can't go through it again."

Kurt took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and realizing something at that moment. It seemed like the unlikeliest of coincidences, and yet the anxiety that she was feeling over the idea that she would wake up and realize that the past week had been a dream… that was almost the same way he felt deep inside, his fear that she would simply disappear as she had before, when she'd left, if he turned his back. Or that he'd wake up and she'd have left.

"Sssshhhh…" he whispered quietly, leaning forward and pulling his arms around her. "If you are dreaming, then so am I. Shall I pinch you?" He didn't wait for an answer, simply gave her a faint pinch on the back of her neck, where one of his hands was gently moving across her skin, feeling her breath catch in her chest in something that was probably supposed to be a laugh. "There, see? Not a dream. And I guarantee to you that I'm far too imperfect to be a dream. If I was in your dream, I'd have to be perfect, right? Too perfect to be believable. And that, as we both know, I am certainly not."

"But you are. This is all perfect, and I can't possibly…"

She gasped for air then, her breath catching in her throat, and he could tell that if she wasn't crying for real already, she was about to be. Without another word, he shifted so that he was lying on his back, and before she even realized what he was doing, he had pulled her up so that she was lying on top of him, their faces only inches apart.

"Jane," he whispered, "Look at me. _Please_." He waited a few minutes as she tried to slow down her breathing and compose herself.

Thanks to a combination of exhaustion and emotion, it was harder to pry her eyes open than she'd expected. When she finally managed it, she saw him looking back at her patiently, and she felt herself on the verge of losing it again. Somehow, she maintained her composure this time as he began speaking softly.

"The expression 'dream come true' is just that. An expression. Or, it is for most people. I, on the other hand, am lucky enough to know what it's like to have a dream come true. Except that, of course, I could never have dreamed up this exact situation because… well, that would be more than a little of a weird dream…" She couldn't help but smile though her tears as he tried to lessen the tension in the air.

She brought her arms up and rested her elbows against the pillow on either side of his head, threading her fingers through his hair little by little as he continued talking. Smiling at the slight but intimate contact, he continued.

"I'm going to tell you this, and I want you to listen to me, okay? I want you to believe me." When she nodded, still waiting, he went on. "You are not dreaming. This is not something that your head is making up. This is not something that's going to go away, and unless you sleepwalk and end up somewhere else, you are not going to wake up without me. Okay?"

The tears were in her eyes all over again. _I really need to stop having emotional conversations with him when I'm exhausted,_ she couldn't help but thing, but it was too late now. That was, perhaps, her biggest fear just then – waking up to find that he was nowhere to be found, and that she was just as alone as ever. Whether it was because he hated her, as she'd once felt that he had after he'd arrested her, or whether she was alone because she'd sacrificed herself for him, the feeling had been almost the same. The fear of waking up and of all of this having disappeared was, at that moment, suddenly paralyzing. His words helped, but they were words, words that someone in a dream could have just as easily said.

She felt his hands on her cheeks, his thumbs again swiping at her tears, and she looked down at him again. "We have the same fear, you know. Waking up without the other person." He hadn't even meant to say that, but after he had, he realized that it might just have been what she needed to hear most.

Those words cut through the emotional fog in her head more than any others had. He was right. Thanks to him, though not on purpose, the pain of waking up from those dreams had been seared into her memory. And thanks to her, though it had been for a noble cause, he'd woken up alone far too many times when all he'd wanted was her. It was the same. He _understood_. Somehow, though that didn't stop her from being afraid, it soothed her fears enough that she could breathe again.

As he watched her, waiting for his words to sink in, he was relieved when a smile crossed her face, even with leftover tears still falling from her eyes. Slowly but surely, the corners of her mouth turned upward and he could breathe again.

 _I did that. I, Kurt Weller, the man who was always so bad with communication._ _I found the words that stopped her tears and made her smile._ Suddenly he felt like a superhero.

"It's going to be okay," he reminded her again, and he watched as her eyes closed. Her smile was still intact as slowly, her head bent down towards him. Her forehead came to rest against his face, and he wondered if she'd meant for it to land where it did, because just by tilting slightly upward, he could plant a kiss between her eyebrow and her hairline, where just moment ago the skin had been so creased with unhappiness.

"This is not a dream," he whispered again. "If you want to get rid of me, you're going to have to try a lot harder than just waking up, alright?"

"Very funny," she whispered tiredly. "Let's not even joke about that."

"I'm sorry," he told her soothingly. "It's not a dream. It's better, because it's real. I promise." She nodded against him, having turned her head to the side and moved down slightly to rest it against his left shoulder, as she'd done one of the nights in the sleeping bag on the mountain. Feeling her calming down, he murmured, "Can we go to sleep now? We don't have too many hours to sleep before we need to get up and ready."

"Ssshhhh," she whispered, "I'm trying to sleep."

Chuckling to himself, he asked softly, "Do you want to turn back on your side? Or do you intend to sleep right there on top of me?"

"Right here," she replied, quietly but firmly. "Now go to sleep." She'd secured her arms around him, loosely draped around his shoulders and yet somehow, firmly fastened behind his neck. It wasn't the way they usually slept, but if that was what helped her sleep, he certainly wasn't going to complain. It wasn't as though she was heavy. Actually, right now she was much too thin, and the small amount of weight on top of him just then concerned him. As he drifted off to sleep, he made a mental note to be more conscious of getting her to eat.

"I love you, Jane," he whispered, once again feeling like no matter how many times he said it, it could never be enough for her to grasp just how much he did.

Her arms tightened around him, but she said nothing, and he could only assume that she had already fallen asleep. Knowing this, he could let himself sleep as well, knowing that, despite the fear that wouldn't quite leave him, she would be there in the morning.


	14. Stay With Me

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

 _A/N: This is not the last chapter. But the next one is._

The plan they'd made the evening before was simple. Their flight was at 10:35 am. They would be at the airport, only a five minute ride from their hotel, at 8:35 am, which meant that they could easily afford to sleep until 7:30 am, leaving them lots of extra time. They probably could have slept later, since there was nothing to pack or clean up, all they needed to do was to get up and gather their few belongings together, but it seemed wise not to push their luck.

However, the neighbors on either side of their room, apparently one family who had woken up very early to have a screaming match, had other plans. It was only 6:30 am when there was a slam of a door, followed by a scream, and then another scream in reply, and then another slammed door.

And just like that, Jane and Kurt were no longer asleep. The noise continued, from one side of them to the other as the participants in the ruckus shifted from one room to the other, but still Jane and Kurt didn't fully wake up, at least not right away. This was by far the least pleasant way they'd been awoken so far on this trip from the top of the mountain, and yet… when Jane opened her eyes to discover that Kurt had been right, that it wasn't a dream, she couldn't help but smile, a feeling of peace moving through her. Despite the unwanted wake up call, she absolutely could not be upset. After all, Kurt was still there. Nothing else really mattered.

Kurt, on the other hand, was a little grumpier than Jane. " 'the hell?" he mumbled, opening his eyes only slowly and clearly not happy about it. "D'you hear someone screaming?"

"Our neighbors," Jane replied in a whisper, trying not to smile lest she be too annoying to her husband, who she could see had woken up in a bad mood. "On both sides of us. It's apparently one group split into the two rooms, and there's a major problem of some kind. Oh, and just for your benefit, it sounds like they're Americans. So you can follow along." The last sentence had come out a little too gleefully, she knew, but she just couldn't help herself. She was just so happy to have woken up and found him there, she was having trouble even pretending to be unhappy.

"Fucking Americans," Kurt grumbled into the pillow, his head turned to the side as he clearly tried his hardest not to wake up.

Jane leaned down and kissed his cheek, trying to diffuse her husband's temper. She didn't see it often, since he was usually the even-tempered one of the two of them, but she knew that she could calm him down by being extra sweet. If anyone else had tried to so much as look at him when he was in this mood, he would likely have bitten their head off, but Jane… well, there was a reason that their coworkers had long ago agreed that no one should be sent to deal with an angry Weller except Jane. To her credit, she had accepted this job happily.

Feeling the kiss on his cheek, his annoyance level lessened, but he was still upset about having been woken up so early. "We're still supposed to be sleeping," he grumbled. "Haven't we been through enough? Can't we just be allowed to get some sleep?"

"Well, I don't hear them anymore," Jane pointed out soothingly. "Maybe they're all screamed out. You could go back to sleep. I think I'm going to get up and take a shower."

There was something about the way she said those last words that cut through his sleepiness and got his attention. Suddenly, he was no longer grumbling about being awake. His eyes peeked open and he turned and looked at her with a grin.

"What's up?" she asked him, pretending she had no idea.

"What about a shower?" he asked, slightly less gruffly.

"I'm going to go take a shower," she repeated, grinning at him but saying nothing else. "Why?"

"I don't know if I can spare you for that long," he said, pouting slightly. "There's only one solution to that. You know that, right?"

"Are you telling me not to go take a shower?" she asked teasingly, knowing exactly what he was saying, and that that was not it.

"What? No…"

"No? Oh, then what did you have in mind?" She blinked at him, wide-eyed, pretending that she had no idea.

Narrowing his eyes at her, he sat up slowly, bringing his face closer to hers and stopping _just_ before he kissed her, only a fraction of a millimeter between them. "What do you think?" he asked, his lips brushing hers as he talked, but still, he didn't kiss her.

She was endlessly amused by the game he was playing, and she tried her hardest to hold herself back… but it was only a few more seconds before she gave in and kissed him, leaning all the way back down. The first time their faces parted for air, he looked at her triumphantly. "You said something about a shower, didn't you?" he asked, pretending not to remember.

"Good idea. Let's go," she replied. The grin on his face told her that he was declaring himself the winner, since she'd broken first, but really, there was no loser in this situation. She was just happy that he was no longer as grumpy as he'd been when he'd woken up.

By 7:30 they were clean and dressed, drinking coffee of questionable quality that they'd made in the tiny machine in their hotel room. However, just the fact that it was coffee made it almost heavenly as far as Jane was concerned.

"I'm almost jealous of that coffee, the way you're looking at it," Kurt told her, at which she almost spit out what little she had yet to swallow as she took a sip. "Hey, wait, please don't spit it out on me," he quickly added. They were curled up together on the bed, with another 5 minutes before they needed to leave for the airport.

"Well then, don't make me laugh while I'm drinking it then," she replied with a smile, trying not to laugh all over again. They finished their coffee and a few minutes later, they were already standing up and putting their backpacks on their backs.

"Ready?" Kurt asked as they took one last look at their hotel room to be sure they hadn't forgotten anything. They hadn't brought much, but they wouldn't be home for more than twenty-four hours still, so it would be better not to leave anything important behind.

Nodding, she stepped towards him and reached for his hand. "Let's go home," she told him. She was more certain that that was what she wanted than ever before.

She heard the old monk's words ringing in her ears then. _Do not return to the mountain. Return home._

The voice in her head was next, its tone insistent but kind. _Maybe one of these days you'll learn not to be so stubborn, and to consider the possibility that other people might actually know what's best for you once in a while. Mostly Kurt, of course, but that monk wasn't wrong either. Imagine if you'd actually listened…_

The smile on Jane's face told him that she was thinking of something, but it was a smile, not a frown, so he wasn't so much worried as he was curious. "Music to my ears," he replied as they closed the door to their hotel room behind them.

Things seemed to move more quickly after that, though of course, being an airport, there was a lot of 'hurry up and wait.' As they sat that the gate waiting for their flight to board, Kurt noticed that Jane had gone quiet. "Don't be nervous," he leaned over and whispered in her ear, squeezing the hand he was already holding. "We're in this together, remember?"

 _Just like he said on the plane that time, after we captured Saul Guerrero._ After she'd proven that she could fly a helicopter while being shot at, but somehow sitting on an airplane was too stressful.

Yet again, she couldn't be sure exactly how he did it, only that somehow this man constantly managed to make her love him more.

 _We're going home_. The words echoed in her head so loudly that she heard little of the noise around her. It was exciting and somehow, also terrifying all at once.

 _Terrifying?_ asked the voice in her head. _Please explain how going home is terrifying._

 _It's where I want to be, and I know that,_ she thought slowly, trying to dissect her feelings into smaller pieces. _But the reason I left…_

 _The reason you left was that you were afraid,_ the voice in her head reminded her. _Afraid for his safety. Afraid of yourself, and that you would somehow hurt him. But haven't you proven that that's impossible? After all, it's like he said. If you were_ _ **anything**_ _like Remi, you wouldn't have given a second thought about what happened to him. The mere fact that you care, and that you care_ _ **that much**_ _, should be all the proof that you need._

She'd been over this in her head, and it made sense. And yet… she still had doubts. It was such a big risk. Looking down at her left hand, she let her thumb play with the gold band on her fourth finger. The one that he had carried all the way back from New York so that, should he find her, he could put it back on her finger.

"I'm nervous about the flight, I mean… _flights_ ," she said, rolling her eyes at the fact that they had to make _two_ stops on the way back, and that the trip would take more than twenty-four hours once they took off until they landed at JFK. Looking back up at him hesitantly, she added, "but that's not all."

"What else are you nervous about?" he asked softly, leaning closer to her.

Exhaling a shaky breath, she shook her head slowly. "It's… it's been so long since I was… home," she replied.

"You're nervous about… coming home?" he asked, trying to understand. Things seemed good between the two of them now. Better than good, even. "Jane, I'm just trying to understand. So I can help," he told her. "Is it something to do with me?"

She shook her head, looking down as if she was ashamed.

"No," she whispered. "You're… It's not you." Her composure was slipping, and the last thing she wanted to do was to make a scene in the airport. It was bad enough that they were so obviously foreign, and the fact that she was covered in tattoos that she had long since stopped trying to hide made her stick out enough in a crowd, especially here in Asia.

"Okay," he mused, trying to think of what else it could be. "Is it about work? Because we're going to find the rest of the team. There've been an entire department of people working on it while I was gone, and…" He stopped talking, because she was shaking her head.

"So, it's not me, and it's not work… then what?" He stared at her, feeling helpless, which was one of the things he hated to be most when it came to Jane.

"Just… coming back home, I guess."

"You mean… the apartment?" he asked curiously.

"No, I mean…" She frowned hard, thinking. "Well, yes. It's just… there's so many…" Her head began shaking slowly without her permission, and she looked down. "There are so many ghosts there for me. When I started having Remi's memories, I just… I wanted to escape them, but they were everywhere. And trying to block them out made it worse. It was like, even though she'd never been there, everywhere I looked I saw her. Well, no, it was _me_ , but me as her… doing horrible things. And she wasn't even doing them _there_ , but I was there when I saw them, and…" She sank against his shoulder, defeated by her thoughts.

"I'm sure we'll mostly be at the office until the team is back together," he replied slowly, thinking as he went along about what he could do to fix this problem for her. "And that may help. You once told me the field was the only place you felt comfortable, if I recall…" She smiled a little at that memory, but didn't look up. "But besides that, obviously we will be in the apartment sometimes. And what if we make it a point to confront those ghosts, and to tell them that it's okay to leave now. That they don't have to hang around, because Remi's gone. And we do it together. Maybe if you tell me about them, it won't seem as bad? What do you think?"

Taking a long, deep breath and then exhaling slowly as she thought about what he was proposing, she nodded. That did sound good, actually. She found herself almost smiling, feeling worn out when it wasn't quite 10:00 in the morning and she'd slept better the night before than she had in ages. It was all just… a lot. Every time something else like this hit her, it exhausted her all over again. Luckily, Kurt didn't seem to tire of helping her pick herself back up and start again.

She hadn't even realized that she'd lost herself in thought when suddenly she felt Kurt squeezing her hand. "That's us," he said, standing up.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Time to get on the plane, Mrs. Weller," he said with mock formality.

No longer confused, she smiled at him. "I was starting to think it would never actually happen," she replied as he tugged her out of the chair with the hand that he had yet to let go of. They each picked up their small backpacks, Kurt's larger one having been checked through the first several stops. They would collect it and have it re-examined again before they boarded the final leg of their journey, from Guangzhou, China to JFK.

For now, Kurt couldn't help but think that it felt good, though maybe a little strange, to be traveling light. Everything that was most important was in the bags they carried, and if they lost the big backpack at this point… well, all things considered, it wouldn't be so bad. Besides, everything that was really important, he was already holding onto in his left hand.

She dreaded all the flying they were about to do, but she knew that ultimately, it was the only way home. Besides, she'd survived the entire trip in reverse, without Kurt, so surely she could survive it, and far more easily, now that she was _with_ him again.

They ended up in the very back of the plane, as was bound to happen when you bought your tickets the night before the flight, but thankfully they had two seats together – one aisle and one middle. Jane sat in the middle, insisting that Kurt needed more legroom, which was easier to come by on the aisle, and as usual, she stubbornly refused to be talked out of her decision. In the seat on the other side of her, by the window, there was a businessman who stared at the tablet in front of him, reading what must have been the local newspaper avidly, never once looking up. That was fine with Jane, since she didn't want to make small talk – not that anyone on the plane would assume that she spoke Chinese, if she didn't give away her secret.

Thankfully, the flight took off on time, and Jane sat, gripping her husband's left hand in her right as tightly as she could, leaning her forehead down on his shoulder and gritting her teeth so hard her head was already aching only minutes into the flight.

To his credit, Kurt didn't show any signs of discomfort at his hand being squeezed by Jane's powerful grasp. He remained the picture of calm, his right hand resting on top of Jane's as she squeezed the life out of his left.

"So what you're telling me here is that you climbed the three mile high mountain, with no safety gear whatsoever, every day for _months_ , and you had no fear, but inside a giant piece of technology that routinely moves people safely across the world every hour of every day, that's what you're afraid of?" he whispered, attempting to distract her from her thoughts. "We could go up and ask the pilot if he'll let you fly the plane, if you think that would help… what do you say?"

She tried to laugh, knowing exactly what he was doing and appreciating his attempt at levity, and at calming her down. This was necessary to getting home, but that didn't change the fact that she was still terrified of flying.

"Come here," he said, turning toward her and pulling her closer. Her head fell down against his chest, and he removed his right hand from on top of hers to put his arm around her back.

Jane discovered that with her ear against his chest at the angle that she ended up leaning, she could hear his heartbeat. Almost immediately, she felt herself begin to relax. She hated this irrational fear of hers. After all, as Kurt had pointed out numerous times, she ran _toward_ danger on a regular basis, in situations where anyone else would be terrified. And yet, in a situation so normal to most people that small children could do it without batting an eye, she became a quivering mass of nerves. And so she tried to forget where she was, and what she was doing. She tried to forget absolutely everything except who she was with, building a protective bubble around them in her mind, so that the rest of the world ceased to exist. When she managed that, she felt her anxiety decreasing steadily.

The flight was long… hours and hours, Jane was fairly sure, and there were two more flights after this one. Instead of thinking about that, she tried her hardest to concentrate only on Kurt. He'd lifted up the armrest between their seats, and she stayed pretty much in the same position for the whole flight, her head leaned against his chest and her hand holding his – though no longer in a death grip – while his other arm was wrapped around her. Whether she was awake or asleep, she kept her eyes closed, as if by not seeing her surroundings, she could simply wish them away.

Every once in a while during the flight, which in reality only lasted two hours, he spoke softly into her ear, asking her if she was alright (she nodded yes), if she wanted some water (she shook her head no), or if she was hungry (her answer was also no). But through the whole flight he held onto her tightly, thinking that while he hated to see her so terrified, his part in this, being the one person who could keep her calm just by holding onto her, was a pretty good job.

About an hour and a half into the flight, when he knew they were close to landing in the Chinese city of Chengdu, their first connection, he decided that it might be helpful to prepare her for landing before the flight attendants made their sudden announcement. Once again leaning down against her ear, he whispered, "Jane, I'm going to tell you something, and I want you to remember that it's nothing to be scared of, okay?" He paused, waiting, and she nodded her head against him but stiffened nonetheless.

"We're going to be landing in Chengdu soon, sweetheart. I don't want you to do anything differently than what you're doing right now, because you're doing great, okay? I just wanted to let you know that soon we'll be on the ground. And I'm hoping that you'll be okay once we're on the ground, because I could really use your help with the whole speaking Chinese thing. Come to think of it, that may be the first of your _many_ hidden talents that I found out about." She'd tensed while he'd talked about landing, but he felt her let out the slightest of chuckles when he mentioned her hidden talents, the corners of her mouth moving up just a fraction.

"See, I knew my Jane was in there somewhere," he murmured encouragingly. "Stay with me, okay? I've got you," he added.

Part of her wanted to open her eyes and look at him just then, but part of her was determined to maintain the calm that she'd achieved with so much effort. The part of her that wanted her to keep her eyes closed won out in the end. After all, Kurt had been sitting beside her and keeping her calm, and he hadn't moved. As he said, there was no reason for her to undo what she had done as far as keeping calm, so she did her best to stay in her happy little bubble that included only Kurt and herself.

And so she was extremely surprised when she heard a great deal of commotion around her, and heard Kurt's voice somewhere in the distance, assuring her that she'd done even better than he would have expected. Finally she allowed herself to peek her eyes open, only to see that the many people in the plane in front of them were standing up and rummaging around for their belongings.

The commotion seemed to jar something loose in her head, and she shook it slightly in her attempt to clear it. Instead, the thought came into clearer focus, and she noticed with apprehension that it was one that came through in black and white. As soon as she saw that, she panicked.

Black and white meant that it was one of Remi's memories, for whatever reason. At first it had seemed like a coincidence, but when it happened over and over again – her 'Jane memories' all came through in color, and all of Remi's lacked color completely, just like the flashbacks always had since she'd come out of the bag – it became clear to her that this was how her mind had filed them. It almost seemed like in a way, the ZIP had stripped the color off of everything that had already happened. Maybe it had.

She looked around, her eyes wide in terror, at almost exactly the same scene – a plane full of people, all standing up and gathering their things. As she watched one particular man two rows ahead of her, she felt what Remi had felt when it was actually happening. At least, she told herself that that was what she was feeling… because she couldn't bear to think that she, Jane, was feeling this on her own about anyone. No, it wasn't so much a feeling as the knowledge that this man was about to die, and she was about to kill him. Not here, in this airplane, but in a few minutes, in a darkened hallway, on the other side of a security door for which she happened to have a keycard in her pocket.

And then just like that, she heard a loud noise as the memory was sucked out of her field of vision – that was the only way she could describe it. Suddenly everything she could see first began to waver, slowly at first and then faster, until she saw the world around her pulled away the same way some talented magicians could pull a tablecloth out from under a table full of dishes – quickly, in one fluid motion.

All of a sudden, the world around her had color in it again, and Kurt was beside her as she was once again squeezing his hand for dear life, as she had been during take-off. Kurt had been talking to her, it seemed, mumbling her name worriedly as he attempted to get her to look at him. When her vision focused and she was able to turn in his direction a few seconds later, she saw his worry turn to relief, and his forehead fell down against hers.

"Jane," he whispered. "You really had me worried there for a second…" She nodded numbly, unable to speak just yet. She felt her hand relaxing in his as she stared at her white knuckles and though in despair that she needed to stop squeezing his hand so hard, because one of these days, as tough as he was, she might hurt him.

As she caught her breath, she focused on her right hand, which was sitting on his left knee, now clasped more loosely with his. She'd tried to let go of his hand completely, to put it somewhere that would be safer for him, like against the seat under her right leg, but he'd refused to let go completely. She turned her hand in his, so that it was his hand facing up, and then brought her left hand over to place on top of it. "I'm sorry," she said in a panicked voice, only a fraction of a whisper. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Do you see what you just did? I'm sure you didn't notice, did you?" he asked. Sighing patiently, he took a deep breath. "You were squeezing my hand – which didn't hurt me, by the way, just so we're clear – and when you realized it, and I guess decided that you wanted to spare me from something that you didn't need to spare me from, you tried to move your hand away completely. Does this sound familiar to you?"

She could feel him looking at her as she stared at their hands, her eyes only moving up slowly until she finally met his. In those eyes that were looking at her so intently, she found calm, as she so often had over the past week. Of course, she knew that there was plenty of hurt behind those eyes, but when it came down to it, most of it had been caused by her trying to keep him safe.

He bent his head closer to her, to allow for the maximum amount of privacy that could be had in the back of a crowded airplane – which wasn't much, but there was nothing they could do about that, and what he needed to say couldn't wait. "Will you please stop trying to run away in order to keep me safe?" he asked gently. "And don't you dare say you're sorry. Don't be sorry. Just… let me help you."

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, still trying to calm her racing heartbeat and process everything he'd just said to her, and the fact that she'd basically just done a miniature version of what had gotten them into this situation in the first place, she felt a wave of despair. It was too much, too big. She couldn't solve it. She didn't want to be here in the middle of China, fighting to get back home. She didn't want to be triggered by every little thing that she saw or heard or felt. She didn't want to have to face this same threat, day after day, which she'd conditioned herself to see even when it no longer existed externally. She didn't want to have another, angrier version of herself inside her head. She didn't want to keep feeling like she was failing at, well, _everything_.

The crowd in front of them was making their way off the plane painstakingly slowly, so they were still nowhere near moving, which was a good thing just then because Jane wasn't ready to go anywhere. She was tangled up inside her thoughts again, and she needed his help to find her way out. That was okay with him. It didn't panic him – at least not as much as it used to – to see her when she was like this. While of course he worried about her, he knew that if he just kept trying, kept physical contact with her and kept talking to her, that he would get through. It might take a little while, but his experience had taught him that it would work, and he chose to believe that this time would be no different.

Ignoring the curious glances from the few passengers around then who had noticed that Jane looked distraught, he took off his seatbelt and turned to face her all the way, letting go of her hand and pulling both arms around her securely. Leaning down next to her ear, he murmured, "I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that that was one of Remi's memories you just had. Am I wrong?" Feeling her head shake from side to side very gently, he kissed the top of her head.

"It's going to get better, Jane. I promise. Okay? I refuse to believe that this is something we can't get past. And I wish I could put all of those memories inside my own head so you didn't have to deal with them, but unfortunately the best I can do is be here for you. And that's what I'm going to do. Do you hear me? No more running away, no more pulling away because you think you're going to squeeze too tightly – literally or figuratively. I can handle it. The only thing I can't handle is losing you."

He felt her breathing even out slowly, and felt her relax. For a minute, she was so still and her breathing so even, that he wondered if she'd fallen asleep. That was when she finally spoke.

She turned her head so that her face wasn't against his chest and he had a chance of hearing her when she talked. "I hate feeling like I can't stop breaking down," she whispered. "I keep thinking that this _has_ to be the last time, and then along comes something else. It's just… exhausting."

"I know… and you have a lifetime of very messed up programming inside your head to deal with. That's not easy. But you know what? When they ZIPed you, and you got a chance to start over, that's when the real you shone through. Remi – Alice – that poor little girl that you were in a different lifetime – they _made_ her cold and unfeeling and vengeful. She wasn't born that way. And the longer you're Jane, the stronger you get. It's going to get better. Now that we know what we're dealing with, we can meet it head on." He couldn't help thinking that Jane would need to talk to a professional, and not just him. This didn't seem like the best time to bring this up, however. After all, none of them were excited about trusting a therapist after Borden had turned out to be Sandstorm. But that was a problem for another day.

The determination in his voice was so strong, she noticed. She also noticed that he'd said 'we' and not 'you.' _Now that_ _ **we**_ _know what_ _ **we're**_ _dealing with,_ _ **we**_ _can meet it head on._ Not Jane alone. Jane and Kurt. The same way they'd always dealt with problems. Well, not always… but it was the only way that had ever _worked._

"I don't think you'll ever be able to understand how much I love you," she told him sincerely, looking up into his eyes.

"You're wrong," he told her. "Because that's how much I love _you_. Maybe more." He winked at her mischievously.

"So it's a contest now?" she replied, realizing that it felt good to smile, even though her face, like the rest of her, felt exhausted.

"Of course not, just a statement of fact," he grinned.

"Okay, Mr. Competitive, then why don't we just call it a tie?"

"So I'm not the only competitive one, then," he observed, raising his eyebrows at her, gland to see her regaining some of the spark that he knew and loved.

"I don't think that was ever a secret," she told him, her smile widening.

Finally, the rows in front of them were starting to move, and he loosened his arms from around her as they prepared to have to stand up and deplane.

"Are you okay now?" he asked softly.

His concern was just as touching as it always was, a stark contrast to the days when he'd looked at her so harshly, which she would never quite be able to forget. Of course, that just made this feeling that much sweeter. "Yes," she replied. Then, her smile widening, she joked, "You ask me that a lot, you know that?"

"Oh, do I ever," he said, his face brightening as hers did. "And I plan to continue. Because if you're not okay, then I need to do something about it. It's part of my job."

"Your job?" she echoed in amusement.

"Absolutely. It's my job to make sure my wife is happy. And my honor, and my privilege."

"Oh, good one. Very smooth," she told him approvingly. "You're getting better at this."

He chuckled at her evaluation, tucking her hair behind her ear, then leaned forward so he could whisper in her ear. "And I'm only getting started." Then he sat back and stood up, gathering their backpacks so that, a few seconds later when she was standing beside him, he could hand her hers, and together they could _finally_ make their way off of this plane and onto their next one. The next flight was only slightly longer, just under two and a half hours, and would take them to Guangzhou, also in China, from which they could fly direct back to New York.

They had a few hours in Chengdu, during which they found bottles of water that they didn't have to boil themselves, and a snack chosen from what felt like a dizzying array of choices after their trek down the mountain with only the food the monks had given them, then they planted themselves in the chairs by their gate, conscious of the looks they got from curious fellow travelers. Jane smiled at the people who stared at her, both because she as a foreigner and also because, in a white v-neck, short sleeved t-shirt, a _lot_ of her tattoos were on display. She didn't care. Smiling was what came naturally to her at the moment anyway, because she felt at peace. If people glared at her or showed concern of any kind, she didn't notice.

Kurt, while happy to see his wife had recovered from her most recent panic attack, and of course, elated to have her beside him again, remained vigilant. This was unknown territory, after all, and the fact that he didn't speak the language made him extra uneasy. His FBI training, which had served him well so many times, had taught him never to let his guard down. Until they were home safely in their apartment, he would not relax completely. He could, however, drape his arm over Jane's shoulders and enjoy the feeling of her head on his shoulder as she curled up beside him.

They weren't home yet, but even half a world away, they felt amazingly close.


	15. I Missed You

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

 _A/N: Sorry folks, this is the last chapter. But you know, it's not like I'm not going to be writing more Blindspot fics by tomorrow, knowing me._

And so the layover passed this way, and it was time to board their next flight. Kurt noticed in surprise that Jane hadn't gotten anxious, and that even as they stood at the gate to show their boarding passes, she smiled and greeted the ticket agent brightly in what he assumed was Mandarin. It was all Greek – or in this case, probably Chinese – to him. He didn't want to say anything, lest he disturb a fragile balance inside her mind or give her a _reason_ to be nervous, he simply appreciated the fact that Jane could at least _appear_ to be happy. She certainly deserved it.

They were buckled into their seats on the flight to Guangzhou, sitting on the runway and waiting for takeoff, and Kurt was just watching Jane in wonder.

"What?" she asked him. "You've been staring at me for like an hour like you're confused about something."

Chuckling softly, he looked down for just a few seconds, immediately looking back up at her with a broad smile. "Guilty," he agreed. "But aren't I allowed to stare at you? I happen to think you're beautiful."

She couldn't help but blush slightly, her smile shifting in amusement. "Well, yes, you're allowed. But the confused part?"

He shook his head, feeling his heart swell a little bit. "Not confused. Just… so many things at once. And on top of that, always a little worry. Especially because… well, I hate to tell you if you didn't already notice, but we're on an airplane. And you don't exactly love those. We're about to take off, and yet… you seem…"

"Oh, _that_? That I'm not freaking out?" She grinned back at him, now understanding. "Well… you know… I have to tell you that I'm actually terrified. I'm probably going to be squeezing the life out of your hand here in a second. But I just keep thinking… after everything we've survived… surely we can make it two more flights…? Even if it _feels_ to me, that we're about to plunge to our deaths…" Her face twisted into a grimace, knowing that she sounded ridiculous.

"Think of it this way, if it helps" he suggested casually. "I remember the time that we almost _did_ plunge to our deaths. But, I guess that happens when you shut down a plane's engines. _On purpose._ But… we didn't plunge to our deaths, so no big deal. We just saved the world again, as we always do, because _you landed the plane yourself_."

Jane was beaming, enjoying sharing that memory with him. It had been during the beginning of that time that she didn't like to think about, of course, when there had been so many secrets, so many lies between them, but even then… she knew now that even back then she had loved him. Of course, she hadn't realized it at the time. It was true, what she'd said so much later, when she'd been just trying to talk down a fifteen year old with a gun. _"It is possible to lie to someone, and still love them very much,"_ she'd told the girl, and her eyes had gone to Kurt. Somewhere in between those two events, she had realized it.

But Kurt wasn't done talking, and she tuned back in. "So really, there's nothing to be afraid of, is there?"

She was squeezing his hand again, but not from fear this time. There were simply no words for what she was feeling at that moment. Yet again, tears gathered just at the corners of her eyes, and for a second she had to close them, simply overcome.

Kurt would have been alarmed by her reaction to his words, except that she was smiling. Yes, it was a somewhat pained smile, but a smile nonetheless. His free hand went to her cheek, and he felt her lean into it, just as she always did. He was going to ask her if she was okay for the thousandth time, but then her eyes opened. Looking into them, he could see that it wasn't distress she was feeling.

"You're right," she grinned. "What would I ever do without you?"

"Let's hope that we never have to find out," he whispered. Glancing out the window behind her, his smile broadened even farther. "Well would you look at that," he told her, tilting his head toward the view over her shoulder.

"What?" she asked. Turning to look behind her, her mouth opened wide in surprise. They were, in fact, already high in the air, almost at their cruising altitude. Turning back to look at Kurt, who was grinning from ear to ear, she didn't know what to say.

"How're you feeling?" he asked.

"Well," she said, looking back out the window and having to think about it for a minute. "I'd rather be on the ground…" Turning back to him and squeezing his hand, she took a deep breath. "How about we talk about something else for a while, and I'll just try to forget about the whole being in an airplane thing?"

Lifting her hand to his face so that he could kiss the back of her hand, he set it back down again and replied, "Anything you want. Like, okay I admit that it's not completely a different topic, but it is more Kurt Weller trivia… did I ever tell you that I'd never been on an airplane until I was twenty years old?"

She bit her lip, a look on her face like she had him beat, but he rolled his eyes and shook his head, saying quickly, "Alright, Miss 'I lost my memory and I'd never done anything so I did everything for the first time when I was thirty-something and then I got all my memories back and it was a horrible nightmare.' I know, you win." He hadn't actually meant to say all that, and he stared at her, shocked at himself, as he waited for her reaction. Just before he started to apologize profusely and beg for her forgiveness, he saw her shock turn to a smile and in a few more seconds, she was laughing.

"I think we can agree that that name is _much_ too long. Please, just continue to call me Jane," she said, then dissolved into laughter at the whole thing. Kurt looked so adorably surprised and embarrassed, that that just made the whole thing even funnier.

"I'm sorry, I… I didn't mean to say any of that. It just came out," he admitted sheepishly.

"It was perfect. Hilarious. Just what we needed. I'm so tired of being emotional over everything. I want to go back to the deliriously happy part."

 _That was the longing in my eyes,_ she realized. _I couldn't let go of that feeling. And maybe now… I can have more of it._ The idea was almost too good to be true.

"I'm completely in favor of that," he told her. "I think we should start right now. Although… I'm good with whatever. Deliriously happy or not. Don't forget that." He looked at her seriously for a few seconds, directly into her eyes as if he was worried that she wouldn't take him seriously.

"I know." It was just one of the million things that she loved about him.

"I am also in favor of a little nap," he told her. "Not that I can probably sleep in the cramped little seat, but what if we just closed our eyes and at least pretend to sleep. We can pretend that we're back home." Realizing that a reference to the apartment might not relax her just then, he scrambled to cover. "Or Central Park. Or at the office. Or that coffee shop you like on the corner. Anywhere." Still he was a little nervous, waiting for her response.

She could see that he was trying to be careful of his feelings, and she loved him for it – even though she hated that he felt like he had to do it. But it would be okay, and things would settle down. Eventually. That part would come. What was important was that they were doing it all together.

"So many options," she replied, "and yet, I was just as happy with you on that mountain – well, until we started running out of food and water, and not including the whole blistered, bloody feet thing… but the rest of it? It was just as good as here or New York. I mean, no, the mountain wasn't quite as _comfortable_ as we are here… just like this seat isn't quite as comfortable as that bed was last night…" She smiled at the memory, unable to imagine how blissful it would feel to sleep in their bed, with him, every night.

"And the shower," he added helpfully, an innocent smile on his face. For that he received a playful shove, and then feigned a look of confusion. "What?" he asked. "What'd I say?"

Shaking her head at him, she leaned her face up towards his for a kiss, and he leaned down and met her partway. Conscious of their surroundings, they kept it short and sweet, but she just hadn't been able to help herself.

"Fake nap now?" she asked.

"Or real nap. Whichever…" he replied with a shrug.

"Good. Then I have an excuse to snuggle up to you," she declared.

"For the record, a reason for that is never necessary. Just so we're clear."

The way he was looking at her was seriously distracting her from the idea of closing her eyes, however. "How can I close my eyes when I don't want to look away from you?" she asked. When he chuckled, she narrowed her eyes about him playfully. "That's not a _joke_. I'm serious."

"Here, I'll start," he said quietly. Against notable resistance, he let go of her hand, then wrapped both arms around her as they shifted in their chairs. When they stopped, she was leaning back against his chest at the same time that he was leaning forward slightly against her back. Their left shoulders were against their seats, and they were facing the window that neither was looking out. Now she couldn't look into his face without twisting to look over her shoulder, but the fact that he had both arms around her almost made up for this. Leaning down, he kissed the top of her head and told her, "Now you can pretend to nap, or really nap, and make this trip go by faster. How's that?"

There was only one word for that, of course. "Perfect," she told him, and finally closed her eyes, a smile on her face that couldn't begin to reflect the joy she felt inside – but that was alright.

The next thing Jane knew, there was a voice above her announcing that they would be landing in a few minutes. And then Kurt's voice was in her ear, even before she opened her eyes. "Hey, Jane, I'm assuming they said that we're going to be landing soon, but of course I have no idea… Care to help a guy out?"

Smiling, she opened her eyes and turned around to speak in his direction. "Yes, that's what they said. At first I didn't even realize they were speaking Mandarin…"

"Alright, alright, no need to show off your super human language powers and make a guy feel bad…"

He pretended to pout, and it was so cute she had to laugh, then kissed him on the cheek.

"How long is the layover here?" she asked him, stretching as much as she possibly could in such cramped quarters.

"About the same, a couple hours," he recalled. "And then… a really, really long flight."

"Thirty-five hours or so?" she groaned, knowing very well that she was making a ridiculous guess.

"No, actually, only about fifteen," he replied happily, as if this was great news.

"Do we have to?" she moaned dramatically. "We could just… live in China…"

Laughing softly as she let her head fall back onto his shoulder in pretend surrender, he took her hand again. "Is that what you want? To start over in Guangzhou, China? Where your adorable husband can't even speak the language? Poor guy…"

"No," she sighed heavily. "Of course not. China's fine, but I want to go back to New York. We _need_ to get back and find the others…"

"Right," he agreed. "And the sooner we get the fifteen hour flight over with, the sooner we're home."

"Okay, but if we have to fly back to China in order to rescue them for some reason, I'm going to be really, really upset with you," she told him seriously.

"That seems fair. I'll take the risk," he said with a nod, squeezing her hand again.

It wasn't too much longer before they were on the ground, and a little longer after that before they once again had to navigate yet another new airport. This time, they had to collect Kurt's bag and then stand in line to have it x-rayed specially in order to fly into the US, after which it was checked through to their destination and they were once again carrying only their lighter backpacks.

Because of the extra step this time, though they had time to pick up food and water on the way ("We need to be sure we have enough food. It's a _long_ flight," Kurt protested when Jane asked why he had as much food as the monks had given them for a three day trek down the mountain), when they reached their gate, the first group was already boarding. The crowd getting onto this flight back to New York was a little more diverse, so Jane and Kurt didn't appear so obviously out of place, and there were other travelers speaking English in the gate area around them.

"Last flight," he told her as they stood waiting for their group to be called, his arm slung casually over her shoulder. "How're you feeling?"

"Tired of traveling," Jane replied. "But happier than I ever thought I would be again."

"It's a start," Kurt said with a nod. "But I still see room for improvement."

"Oh, yeah?" she asked curiously.

"I mean, that's not _bad_ ," he added. "But I think I can do better."

"Really?" Looking up at him in amusement, she saw the glint of laughter in his eyes, and felt emotional all over again. How she had ever walked away from this, she could no longer remember.

"It's my personal challenge," he stated matter-of-factly. "And I figured you wouldn't mind either."

"No objections so far," she grinned.

Just then, an announcement was read first in Mandarin, and then in heavily accented English.

"Hey, I understood that one," he remarked excitedly. "And it's time to board the plane."

Together they stepped forward into the crush of the crowd, two people in the last group of travelers to board the New York bound flight that would have them home late the next morning.

"Hey, did you tell Hirst that we were on our way back?" she asked Kurt when they were buckled into their seats for the final leg of their journey.

A guilty smile appeared on his face and he shook his head slowly before answering. "I suppose I should do that. I just haven't been able to think about work, except for the obvious need to find the rest of the team… Other than that…" Finally she shook his head slowly, and Jane grinned.

"You probably should though, you know? I'm sure they're worried about you."

He couldn't help but notice how she left herself out of the equation completely. "Everyone's been worried about _you,_ too, you know," he said gently. When she just ducked her head and averted her eyes, biting her lip, he knew that he needed to tread carefully. "We all care about you, Jane. Yes, it hurt me the most when you left, but I wasn't the only one who cared. Who was concerned. They'll all be happy to see you. And when we rescue Reade, Zapata and Patterson, they'll just be _extra_ glad to see you."

The look on her face told him that she was feeling stress from the thought of facing the team, the office… the people besides Kurt that she'd left behind. "It might be strange at first, but… it can't be worse than…" He couldn't bring himself to say more.

She watched him bite his lip and try to decide what words to use, but she knew which time he was talking about and decided to save him the trouble. "I have to agree. This is definitely _much_ sweeter than my last, uh… homecoming. And it doesn't come with battle scars or months of nightmares… at least, I _hope_ it doesn't."

"It also doesn't come with a guy who was a complete asshole to you," he said bluntly.

Her face softened as she looked at him, and she put her hand on _his_ cheek this time. "Hey, no fair. If I'm not allowed to do that, then neither are you," she chided him. "Besides, I'll tell you from experience that it's not all that much fun. All that guilt and blame doesn't take you anywhere nice. I'd much rather be here. With you. We're come a long way from those two people we were back then."

"We sure have," he whispered, putting her left hand in between both of his and holding on tight, as if there was some danger that she would slip away if he didn't.

"I wonder how much of this fifteen hour flight we can sleep through," she thought out loud, for his benefit.

"I'd say, at least the first few hours," he said. "Shall be give it a try?"

"Mmmmmm…. Yes, that sounds good," she replied as they curled into the same position as they had on the previous flight, except facing the opposite direction, since she was on his right, not his left this time. It wasn't long before they were both asleep, or at least pretending.

The flight back to New York was as long and boring as they'd expected, but in the end, many hours of naps, conversation, reading and eating all of the food that Kurt had bought in the airport later, they made it back to American soil. As they landed, Jane looked over the shoulder of the older Chinese woman who sat between herself and the window.

 _New York_ , she thought it awe. _I never thought I'd see it again… I wasn't supposed to come back._

All he could see was the back of her head and a hint of her profile as she stared out the window, so it wasn't the look on her face that told him. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was facing the window without moving a muscle, and that had was clamping onto his hand even harder than she had since their first flight had taken off from Lhasa the day before. Or the fact that her entire body had tensed and stayed that way. Maybe it was all of those things, or maybe it was just that he knew her so well, and he knew that this would be an emotional view for her.

He carefully threaded his right arm around her shoulders, between her neck and the back of the seat, without inadvertently disturbing the woman on the far side of her. Tugging her back towards him gently, but not attempting to stop her from looking out the window at the view of the city, he pushed her hair out of the way and then put his cheek down next to hers, over her left shoulder.

"Welcome back," he told her softly, feeling her breathe unevenly with the emotion of the moment. She wasn't upset, he knew, more overwhelmed, relieved and a hundred other things, but that deep down, it was a good thing. He couldn't imagine what she'd been through, and then to feel that she had to feel guilty on top of it all... There was so much for her to recover from, and yet, if there was anyone who could do it, it was Jane – the strongest, bravest, most determined person he'd ever known.

The plane banked gently, tilting up so the city was no longer visible on their side as it neared the airport and adjusted its position for approach. No longer focusing out the window, Jane turned towards Kurt. His cheek was still beside hers, over her shoulder, and now she pressed her face into it, her breaths coming faster than they should have as she attempted to calm down.

Taking her right hand in his left, he held it up, then pressed it against his chest, just over his heart. "Keep breathing, Jane," he told her, watching her smile at the words from so long ago. "It's going to be okay."

Little by little her breathing slowed down, back to normal, and she smiled weakly at him. Just then, the plane bumped as its wheels touched down on the tarmac, and a few seconds after the engines stopped roaring, a voice cam on over the loudspeaker. First in Mandarin, and then in English, it said, "Welcome to New York." Jane and Kurt just grinned.

From JFK, they took a cab back to their apartment. They could have taken a bus and then the subway, but after travelling for a week, a splurge on the cab seemed like a drop in the bucket. They'd paid for plane tickets from _China_ , for goodness sake, so a cab across New York City seemed like nothing.

Jane was quiet in the cab. She sat snuggled up with Kurt, but he could feel tension in her. She wasn't completely relaxed, and he knew why. After as long as they had been gone, and as emotional as it had been for her to leave, coming back might be just as hard. Or maybe harder. He couldn't be sure, all he knew was that he was watching her like a hawk, and so far she had given nothing away.

He tipped the cab driver handsomely, and then stood next to Jane on the curb, their backpacks on their backs, as the car drove away. She was staring up at the building with a mix of determination, apprehension, happiness, fear… and so many other emotions, it probably wasn't possible to separate them all. Even after their journey from the end of the Earth, he had no intention of rushing her. What he did do, however, was to take her hand, and squeeze it gently, letting her know that he was there, and that he was going to be there. Even knowing that she knew that, he also knew that she needed that extra reassurance just then.

She was making a conscious effort to remember to breathe. Staring up at his building – _their_ building – she remembered the last time she'd stood in almost this same spot, six months before. It had felt like an eternity that she had stared up at that building, before she'd forced herself to turn around and walk away, knowing that she would be hurting him more than anything in the world, and knowing that she would never see him again. The pain of that moment overwhelmed her, and for a few minutes that was all she could see or hear or feel – that night so long ago, and nothing else.

And then, the moment slowly faded, and something was different. She couldn't pinpoint it until she felt his hand holding hers, and she couldn't help but smile. It was bittersweet, here and now, because there was at least as much pain as there was joy.

She hadn't even realized that there were tears on her cheeks until Kurt stepped close enough to her to use his left hand, his free one, to gently wipe them away.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" he asked. "It's okay if you do."

"No," she whispered, still staring up at the building. She could feel Kurt watching her, and she knew how desperately he wanted to help her. Still, she didn't move… _couldn't_ move.

"Jane," he whispered from beside her, and when he didn't say anything else, she looked over at him. "It's going to be okay."

Taking a deep breath, and then another, she slowly began to feel it – the calm that was flowing from him into her. Those simple words, which he'd said to her what felt like a thousand times over the past week, were what it had taken to break the spell, and allow her to walk forward along the sidewalk.

Kurt followed her lead, squeezing her hand and walking along slowly beside her. Physically, he was exhausted. They both were. But mentally… their physical exhaustion paled in comparison to their mental exhaustion. If it took a few extra minutes to reach their apartment, or even if she ended up changing her mind about going in altogether… that didn't matter. The _only_ thing that mattered was that the two of them were together, wherever they ended up.

She paused at the bench where she'd waited for him that night, so very long ago. The night that she'd slipped her detail, to his dismay, and had come here to wait for him to get home, and then kissed him, right there on the sidewalk.

When she stopped by the bench, he knew what she was thinking about. She looked around her, then up at the building, and then down the street in the direction that her safe house had been. The direction in which she had walked, only to be jumped and abducted by Carter's goons less than a block away. Her face clouded over slightly as she remembered, the slight smile that had been there a second ago disappearing.

Again, he squeezed her hand. "They can't hurt you anymore, Jane," he told her softly. "Not Carter or anyone else." Turning back in his direction, a faint smile returned to her face as she looked at him, and she nodded.

"Yeah," she whispered, but nothing else.

He was worried about her, of course, but she started walking again, toward the front door, and he followed along. They made it, slowly but surely, to the elevator without incident, and now he sincerely wondered how she would do when he finally opened the door… But he was about to find out, so he tried not to dwell on it.

In the elevator, she was silent. She stood beside him and gripped his hand tightly, starting straight ahead. Her breathing was slow but deliberate, as if she was counting inside her head to keep her calm. Yet again, he wished with everything inside of her that he could do more.

 _One one thousand._

 _Two one thousand._

 _Three one thousand._

 _Breathe._

 _Now do it again._

 _I can't look at him. As much as I love to look at him, if I look at him right now, I don't think I can hold it together._

When they stepped out of the elevator, Jane stopped, looking down the long hallway toward their door. Her breathing was suddenly faster than usual, and he looked back and forth from her face, down the hall in the direction of the door, and then back to her. He felt her squeeze his hand harder, more like she had on the airplane, and he squeezed back in reply.

It should have taken less than a minute for them to walk down the hall to their door, and yet, she swore it took an eternity. She knew, of course, that she was freaking out inside. That she was overreacting, but that didn't change anything. She also knew that he knew, even without her showing significant outward signs, how fragile she felt. After all, he always knew.

In reality, with the slow pace that she was setting, it took about a minute and a half to walk down the hall. Kurt walked beside her, holding her hand firmly. When she stopped outside the door, on the other side of the hall, he could sense that something was wrong.

Without taking her eyes off the door to their apartment, she let go of his hand, then took her backpack off her back and set it on the floor at her feet. She leaned back against the wall, breathing deliberately, and suddenly he was afraid that she was going to run.

She had no intention of running, she was just so scared… Inside her head she was talking to herself.

 _There's nothing to be scared of. You know that. This is_ _ **Kurt**_ _, the man who just spent six months doing nothing but looking for you, and then bringing you back._

 _It's not Kurt I'm afraid of._

 _Then what?_

 _Me._

 _We've been over this. You don't have to be scared. If_ _ **he's**_ _not scared – and he told you exactly_ _ **why**_ _he wasn't scared – then you shouldn't be either._

 _But…_

 _ **Jane**_ _ **Weller**_ _. Look at the man standing in front of you. What you're doing right now is cruel, both to yourself, but even more than that, to him._ _ **Talk to him.**_ _The last time you didn't… well, that's how you got yourself into this mess._

The voice in her head was right, she knew. Turning slowly to look at Kurt, who'd also set both of his bags on the floor beside him and was standing against the opposite wall beside their door, she looked into his eyes. She knew all the things that he wanted to say without him having to open his mouth.

 _Talk to me._

 _Keep breathing._

 _You're my starting point._

 _I love you._

 _It's going to be okay._

"I'm sorry," she whispered, ignoring the rule against her saying those words. "Can we just… start over?"

The worry on his face softened a little now that she was talking to him, and he looked at her thoughtfully. "I guess so," he replied hesitantly, not really knowing what she was asking for. Leaning his head back against the wall across from her, he asked, "How far back are we talking? Because there's a few parts of our past that I don't really care to repeat…" No further elaboration was necessary, of course.

"No, not that far," she said, her voice just as soft as it had been when she spoke the first time. "Just… to the night when we were standing right here, like this."

"The night of the party, you mean? Two years ago?" he asked gently. "I could be okay with that." After all, that's where things had finally started to go right for them.

Smiling tiredly, she took a deep breath, suddenly knowing what she wanted to say. "So, I found something out, these last six months," she began, her back still against the wall. When he just looked at her without interrupting, simply raising his eyebrows, she smiled slightly and continued. "I found out that I could go anywhere, and it wouldn't matter. Because if you weren't there, I…" She closed her eyes and look a deep breath, then tried again. "I only ever wanted to protect you…"

He nodded at her, hating to see her so obviously distressed, but somehow knowing not to approach her yet. "I know, Jane," he whispered. "It's okay."

"But if I don't have to do that, if you really don't think so… then… this is where I want to be. Nowhere else on the face of this Earth. I love you, Kurt, _more than anything_ …"

Those last words stung, but they were true, and she wondered if by using them now, she could reverse the power they'd had for so long.

This time, unlike when they'd stood in the hallways two years ago, she was losing her composure quickly. Of course, the first time had been a simple declaration of love, and nothing else. This time was… well, it was all so much more complicated now.

The tears were already beginning their trek down her cheeks, and that was when Kurt knew that the time for waiting for her to finish talking was over. Just as he'd done two years before, he closed the distance between them from one side of the hall to the other, leaning down to kiss the woman who had already been his wife for a long time, but who he had loved for so much longer – almost as long as he'd known her. The kiss quickly turned into an embrace, however, because it was hard to kiss someone who was crying the way Jane was just then.

"I love you, too, Jane. _More than anything,_ " he whispered in her ear. "And it _is_ going to be okay. All of it. I promise." He whispered in her ear.

He'd promised her that so many times, from the first day they'd met. And even though there had been times when things between them had been very, very far from okay, there had also been the times in between when just his presence alone had made her forget any and every shred of misery she'd been feeling, and believe him when he said it.

And yes, it had been a hell of a bumpy ride to get to his point, but they were there, on their doorstep together, still standing and arguably stronger than ever. If she knew one thing about her husband Kurt, it was that he took his promises seriously, and that, as choosy as he was, he would never give up on her. She'd been fooling herself to think that she could protect him by running away. She saw that now.

When she'd calmed down enough that he felt comfortable leaning back to look at her, she found herself even able to smile at him, albeit weakly. "You ready?" he asked. "It's up to you. I mean after all, we have a sleeping bag…"

He cracked a smile, but she could clearly see that he wasn't making fun of her, only trying to lessen the tension. They _did_ have a sleeping bag, after all… though a campfire probably wouldn't be appropriate in the hallway.

"I'm ready," she whispered, and he kissed the top of her head. They both took a moment and picked up their bags, and then he took out his keys.

"A wonder I didn't lose these somewhere along the way," he said, and she could see that now he was making idle chit chat just to have something to say.

When he pushed the door open slowly, she took a deep breath as she looked at the home that she'd thought she'd left forever. _Their_ home. She'd been gone so long, that even though she'd lived there for more than a year, the idea that it also belonged to her was once again foreign.

"It looks… exactly the same," she breathed, standing in the doorway in awe.

"Well, you know I'm not one for cleaning," he joked, but she looked at him seriously. He'd walked a few steps inside and put his bags down, while she was still standing in the doorway. "I just… couldn't bear to change anything. It had all felt so perfect the way it was, when you were here… and I guess I wanted to preserve as much of it as I could… even though without you here, none of it meant anything. I knew that the only thing missing was you."

She reminded herself to breathe as she listened to his sweet words, smiling slowly. She had a sudden flashback to the first time she'd stood in that doorway, when Sarah had opened the door for her, Kurt standing in the background drinking a beer until finally Jane had been saved by the bell – the timer that told Sarah to check on dinner. That first night she'd walked the rest of the way in, feeling self-conscious as she and Kurt had talked… and then suddenly, the years melted away and there she was again, standing in the doorway and looking into his worried eyes.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"Yeah," she replied. "I was just remembering the first time I stood here. Sarah and Sawyer were here…"

"Ha! Right," he nodded, smiling happily as he walked the few steps back to where she stood. "When Sarah burned dinner, just like I said she would, and you came in, looking beautiful, and I gave you a beer, and you met Sawyer…" He stopped then, seeming to remember only then that not too much farther into that memory, there was a pitfall.

"We thought I was Taylor, then."

"But you weren't."

"No." She looked down, remembering a different night, long after the other memory… the night they had both found out, separately, that she wasn't Taylor.

His voice drew her back out of that memory quickly – he didn't want her going down that road. "And it's okay that you weren't Taylor, because you were someone better."

She looked up at him in surprise. _Someone better than Taylor?_ Surely there was no one better than Taylor, as far as Kurt Weller was concerned. After all, he'd devoted most of his life to finding her. His memories of her were _sacred_.

"You were Jane. And you _are_ Jane. And even better than _that_ , now you're Jane _Weller_. My wife. Not just for pretend, for an opp," he said, winking at her. "But for real. And to this day, I don't know how I got so lucky."

Her head was shaking before she even realized it.

"Oh no, you misunderstood me. That wasn't a question," he told her with a grin. "I was absolutely lucky the day we got married. And I'm even luckier today. You know why?"

She shook her head silently, wondering how this self-professed choosy man had ever chosen her – and for that matter, how all of these words were coming out of his mouth. He'd never been good at pouring out his emotions on this grand a scale, even to her.

"Today I'm even luckier because I chased you to the end of the Earth, convinced you to come back home, spent about a week getting you back here, and tonight… I get to cook you dinner, we get to sleep in our own bed, and I get to tell you I love you as many times as you can stand it. Because you're really here. And that makes me luckier that I've ever been in my life."

Once again, she was stunned. Thinking back to the man she'd known so long ago, she couldn't help but look at him in wonder. "I swear you told me once that you weren't good at communicating."

"Maybe I just needed the right person," he said with a shrug. Watching her smile again, he stepped forward and took her bag from her, easing it off of her shoulder and leaning just far enough away to set it down by the wall.

She looked down at the chair beside the door as he put her bag down, and saw something she'd been looking for for a long time. "Hey, is that my jacket?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah. One of the neighbors was wearing it one day when I passed her in the hall, not too long after you'd left. I asked her, and she said she'd found it in the hall one night. Poor woman. I wasn't in a good place, and I wasn't exactly polite when I asked for it back…"

"I lost it the night of the party. That same night…" she told him, feeling a smile creep across her face.

"Clearly, kissing me was more important than holding onto your jacket," he grinned. "Good thing you're not holding it now."

"Why's that?" she asked innocently.

"Because," he said, stepping back up so that he was standing right in front of her. "That way I can kiss you and not worry about you losing your jacket. And what are you still doing, standing in the doorway? Come in already."

He took both of her hands, and gently pulled her into the apartment, far enough that he could reach his foot around the corner of the door and kick it closed behind her, then wrapped his arms around her tightly. "Oh, excuse me, I was just going to lock the door," he said, leaning past her to turn the lock before returning his face to its previous position, only a millimeter away from hers.

"Right," she replied seriously, "Just like you were just trying to reach the zipper on the sleeping bag when you did basically the same thing a few days ago."

"See? I'm glad we understand each other," he said, the last words he managed before they both leaned forward at the same moment, no longer needing to hold back.

It had been a long road, and there was still a long way to go. First thing the next day, they would be at the office, solving the mystery of where their friends were being held, as well as that little matter of why her skin could now glow with purplish tattoos.

Either of those mysteries, without any of the other things they'd been through in the last six months, would have been enough to stop the world for them all on their own – at least, they would have been before. But somehow, exactly _because_ everything that had happened had gone the way it had, they could take it all in stride.

Yes, they were worried about their friends, but they would find them. And yes, Jane glowing purple was certainly a cause for concern, but they would figure that out as well. What they had both learned slowly, over the past few years without even realizing it until recently, was that no matter what, the bond between them was unbreakable. Even if they wanted to, they couldn't fight it. Luckily for both of them, they now knew better than to try.

It had been barely past noon when they'd gotten back to their apartment, and by 2:30 pm they'd eaten and made up for lost time, and decided that unless they woke up hungry, they were going to curl up in bed and fall asleep, giving themselves permission not to wake up until the next day. Never mind the fact that that wasn't how you were supposed to get over jet lag. They were dealing with far more than jet lag, anyway.

"Jane," Kurt whispered, not sure if the woman using his shoulder as a pillow was asleep, or just resting her eyes.

"Mmmmmm?" she replied, stirring slightly.

Kurt chuckled, pulling her closer, and tracing the ink lines on her shoulder with the tip of his finger. "I…" he started, finding himself mesmerized by her, and forgetting to finish his thought.

"I know," she replied, her voice sounding already half asleep. "I love you, too. And I promise, never again. And no, I won't try to cook you breakfast. I learned my lesson the last time…" When she felt him chuckling under her head, she forced her eyes open and picked up her head to look at him. "What? None of the above?" she asked, disappointed that she hadn't managed to guess correctly.

"I missed you," he said simply.

"Wow, I was way off…" she laughed softly, but he just shook his head and tucked her hair behind her ear again. She couldn't help but think that she might never get enough of that simple gesture. "I missed you, too," she whispered.

They looked at each other for a minute, their eyes saying far more than their tired brains were able to express just then. Just like they always had, they understood each other perfectly.

They didn't need the answers to all of the questions, though of course, they would keep searching. No, at the end of the day, all they needed was each other. All it had required to remind Jane that this was the _only_ way that things were going to work was a little trip to the end of the Earth and back.

###

 _A/N: A few days ago, as I worked feverishly to finish this fic so I could get to work editing my book, I heard the song "Pompeii" by Bastille, which I've always loved, and I was struck by the lyrics. If you've read my other Blindspot fics, you know that music weighs heavily in my writing process, whether just as inspiration, or in actually being featured in the stories themselves. Anyway, the chorus of "Pompeii" (most of it, anyway) reminded me of the way this journey, at least my version of it, has come full circle._

 _And then it was pointed out to me a few days ago that "The Only Exception" by Paramore was also pretty perfect to describe Jane and Kurt, especially with this fic, where he_ _ **told**_ _her (a few chapters ago) that she was the only exception for him. And so, in addition to not being able to claim credit for the brilliance of Blindspot, I can also make no claim on the lyrics of either of these songs… but judge for yourself whether they seem to fit._

 _I hope you've enjoyed this journey. It turned out more intense than I expected, but then again, they usually do when I write them._

" _Pompeii" by Bastille (excerpt)_

"…But if you close your eyes,  
Does it almost feel like  
Nothing changed at all?  
And if you close your eyes,  
Does it almost feel like  
You've been here before?..."

" _The Only Exception" by Paramore (excerpt)_

"…And I've always lived like this  
Keeping it comfortable,  
Distance, and up until now  
I'd sworn to myself that I'm content  
With loneliness  
Because none of it  
Was ever worth the risk, but...

You, are, the only exception  
You, are, the only exception  
You, are, the only exception  
You, are, the only exception…"


End file.
